


The Wolves of Baskerville

by notDeaDD



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Omega Sherlock, Past Abuse, Possible mention of past sexual abuse, Possible smut later on, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notDeaDD/pseuds/notDeaDD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is an army doctor, turned bored civilian.<br/>One day he gets a mysterious phone call from a man who offers him a large sum of money to take care of a wounded omega.<br/>As omegas are very rare and John has a certain sense of adventure, he accepts the offer.<br/>This brings him to an old mansion outside the town of Baskerville, where he might get more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doctor Wolf

It was a silent day in the clinic. John Watson stared at his computer screen, wishing for a patient to show up. Or maybe just for something to do. He felt his hand twitching slightly and tried to ignore it. For three months he had worked at this clinic now. Three months filled with the flu, common colds, hypochondriacs and some very overprotective mothers and fathers.  
He sighed heavily. Getting used to the life of a civilian doctor was not as easy as he thought it would be. He did not like to admit it to himself, but he missed the action. He had always thrived while working under extreme pressure. This clinic, he felt, might be slowly killing him on the inside.  
The phone rang as he was taking a sip from his already cold coffee. The caller ID was anonymous. He frowned and put down his coffee.  
'Hello, this is doctor Watson speaking,' he said as he picked up the horn.  
'Ah, hello, doctor Watson. I was hoping I might speak to you directly. How lucky I am,' the voice on the other side did not really sound like he felt lucky. John ignored the man's tone.  
'What can I help you with today?' he tried to smile as he said it, he had read somewhere that people could feel you smiling, even through a phone.  
'I might actually have something to help you with, good doctor,' said the voice, there was a rustling of papers, 'It seems that you have quite a hard time with paying the rent of your apartment. Tsk, tsk, doctor, isn't that a shame.'  
John felt his cheeks become red. He got angry. How did this man know his financial state?!  
Just as he wanted to say something very impolite to the man on the other side of his phone, the man spoke again.  
'You are wondering how I know this, surely. That is not important. For now, just try to accept that I know almost everything there is to know about you, John Watson. And I don't think I'm lying when I say, I have an offer you cannot refuse.'  
John stayed silent for a bit, trying to think of friends who might want to prank him. He came up with nothing. Most of the friends he still had contact with, didn't even know he now lived in London.  
'And what is this offer 'that I cannot refuse'?' said John grumpily.  
The man on the other side of the phone seemed to be very content with himself.  
'I do not know if you are familiar with the village of Baskerville.'  
'I'm not,' grumbled John.  
'Then I suggest you familiarize yourself with it, as you will be staying there for quite a while. Although I am not entirely sure it is your thing, it is, as they say, a picturesque little town. Devoid of any real action. I believe to most exciting thing to happen there in these last ten years was some sheepdog getting loose and being lost for a couple of days.'  
'What do you mean, I will be staying there? I didn't even give my answer yet. And you didn't even make a proper offer yet!'  
'I do apologize, doctor,' again, the man did not sound like he meant it, 'Then I will make my offer now. On the outskirts of Baskerville is a small mansion. It's old, but very comfortable, I assure you. In that mansion has been placed a wounded omega, who needs the care of a proper doctor.'  
Something stirred within John when he heard the word 'omega'. Omegas were rare these days and highly praised. The alpha wolf in him, rejoiced at the chance to meet one in real life.  
'You are the doctor I had in mind. You have the right skill set,' the man paused shortly after these words as to emphasize them, 'And you have proved yourself cool even under extreme pressure. Ofcourse, you will be rewarded for your work. When you are done, and that might take a while, you will never need to worry about paying your rent again.'

It took John a couple of minutes to think on his answer. Ofcourse he was tempted. There would be an omega, an omega! And ofcourse, there would be money. Money he could really, really use.  
Besides, he had a bit of an adventurer in him. Eventually, he decided to go.  
The man seemed even more pleased with himself when John gave his answer.  
'Ofcourse, doctor, I do not have to tell you that any omega is a precious and delicate being. This omega in particular is important to me. If any additional harm is done to him, I will personally make sure you can forget about a career or even a fulfilling life.'  
With those words, the man on the other side, hung up the phone.  
John was left angry, confused and very curious about this wounded omega he would be taking care of. The man had said 'him', so a male omega. That was a rare occurrence indeed. John wondered if maybe the man on the phone was the bond mate of the omega. Yet, if that were the case, wouldn't he himself be tending to the wounds of his omega?

Two days after the phone call, John arrived in Baskerville. Upon arrival, he immediately discovered that the town counted about three streets, one pub and a tiny church. It also counted at least seven bed & breakfasts and a handful of tourists, who all came to photograph the moors in autumn.  
John stared out of the window of his cab with a sad grumble. This town was indeed not his thing. The pub looked promising though. He might go there once he got settled in the mansion.  
The cab took him a couple of miles out of town, unto a dirt road straight through the moors. The afternoon was ending and a light fog came in from the east.  
John was unable to see the mansion, until he was right in front of it. He frowned when he saw it. It really was an old building, though it seemed as if someone was taking good care of it. The mansion had steps and a porch, with four giant stone columns that came all the way to the roof. It seemed to have a mixture of classic and gothic influences, as far as John could see.  
He got his things out of the cab and discovered that his ride had already been paid. Whoever was behind all this, seemed to have a lot of money and power.  
He became more and more nervous as he walked up to the huge door of the mansion. It took a while before he was brave enough to ring the bell. He rang it thrice.  
A voice came from inside. It was loud and almost definitely female. His frown deepened, wasn't the omega supposed to be male?

The door was opened by a middle aged and clearly beta woman, who had a very warm smile on her face. She was dressed completely in purple. When she saw John, her smile became even wider.  
'Ah! You must be the doctor they sent for! Come in, come in! It's freezing outside, quickly now, step inside.'  
John did as he was told and the woman closed the door behind him. In the same movement she took his coat and two of his bags. 'My name is Mrs. Hudson. I'm the landlady, not the housekeeper mind you. Though most people seem to assume I am.'  
'John Watson,' introduced John himself with a slight smile.  
'Ofcourse I was expecting to see you. He called a couple of days ago, so I'd have time to arrange some extra rooms. Said money wouldn't be a problem! Mind you, he rented out this whole place! Said he didn't want anyone else in here but you and that poor, poor omega.'  
Mrs. Hudson kept talking until they reached John's room. She showed him where the bathroom was and where he could keep his stuff. After that she gave a tour of the mansion and showed him where the kitchen was and where he would be doing his laundry ('I am not a housekeeper, mind you!').  
Now and then, John would smell a slight omega scent, always coming from rooms with closed doors.  
Eventually he had enough of the endless talking of the landlady. He wanted to see his patient, so he could start making treatment plans, maybe get to know him.  
'The- eh, the omega, Mrs. Hudson, where is he?' he asked the woman.  
Her face fell a bit. 'Oh that poor dear. He usually hides in his rooms all day. Doesn't even come out to eat. I have to cook his food and put it in front of his door. I told Mr. Holmes: I am not a housekeeper, nor a cook. But ofcourse I could not refuse to help a poor thing like that.'  
'Where are his rooms?' asked the doctor.  
'Up the stairs, the whole left corridor. He probably won't open the door for you though, he doesn't even open the door for me, poor dear. I really hope you can help him, doctor Watson.'  
John nodded his head. He hoped so too. If not for the omega, then for himself. This mister Holmes, the man who had recruited him, did not seem like a person who joked around.

John slowly walked up the stairs. With every step, the smell of omega became stronger. His inner wolf howled and scratched at him. It wanted very much to get to know the omega. John suppressed the wolf however. He had no idea what kind of state his patient would be in. Going full alpha, or full wolf, would not be the best starting strategy. It could always be done at a later stage of the treatment.  
Yet he could not stop himself of wanting to smell more of the omega scent. It was subtle, slightly musky and had a very, very powerful effect on him. Only once before had he smelled an omega, a female, and her scent had been less strong and more sweet.  
John swallowed when he came to the door to the left corridor. It was closed, but the omega smell seeped from under it, through little cracks in the wood, through the keyhole. He could smell that the omega was very afraid and sick. It made his inner alpha howl even more. He wanted to take care of the omega, nurse it back to health, protect it from all danger.  
He swallowed. Then he knocked on the door.  
There was no answer, so he knocked again.  
Still no answer.  
The doctor knocked a bit louder this time. He thought he could hear a soft whine coming from the inside of the corridor. There was some scuffling and then all was silent again.  
'Hello?' he asked softly, 'Are you in there?'.  
Again, a soft whine. 'I mean you no harm. I'm a doctor. My name is John Watson, I am here to help.'.  
The answer was more scuffling. The smell of fear became stronger. John felt a twinge of pain of not being able to comfort the scared omega.  
'Are you hungry?' he tried, 'I can bring you food.'  
Still no answer but a thicker smell of fear. John sighed. How was he able to help his patient, when he couldn't even reach him?! He came very close to tearing down the door, when Mrs. Hudson came upstairs with a tray of food. She smiled at him.  
'These are his favourites, I think,' she said with a slight frown, 'At least, he seems to eat all of it.'  
She handed the tray to John and walked down the stairs again.

John put the trey in front of the door, hoping that the omega would be tempted by the smell of food. He propped himself up against the wall facing the door, so his own smell would not pollute that of the food too much. Maybe the omega was afraid because he smelled like alpha. It might have been alphas that hurt the omega. It usually were. John cursed under his breath. He waited.  
After what seemed like ages, there was a sound of bare feet on a floor. The doorknob turned very slowly. John felt his curiosity return. He pressed himself against the wall in a brave effort not to run for the door.  
At first, the door only opened a tiny bit. He could see part of a pale face, some dark curls and two skinny, long fingers. Although the omega saw him, it opened the door further so it could get the food. John frowned deeply. The omega was skin and bones and almost completely naked. Two piercing blue eyes looked at John worried, but after a while decided to focus on the food instead.  
The omega clumsily took the food tray with him through the half opened door.  
John let the wall go and slowly got a bit closer to the door. The omega immediately froze in fear. John put his hands up as a sign that he meant no harm. The man behind the door, did not seem to understand that very well. Something that was between an whine and a growl escaped his skinny throat.  
'No, no,' John said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, 'I mean you no harm. You are safe. Safe.' He really hoped that, if he kept repeating the word, the omega would understand it. His alpha howled and whined and wanted to come out, so he could smell the omega from up close and built it a nest and keep it safe so it wouldn't be afraid anymore.  
Maybe the omega sensed that, or there was something in John's demeanour that made him less afraid. Whatever it was, John was thankful for it.  
The omega unfroze slowly and kept backing away from the door, while pushing the tray over the floor of the room.  
John was even slower to enter the room. He tried to make himself as small as possible. While walking he made soothing sounds and tried to lull the omega, tried to make it trust him more.  
It wasn't an easy job. Every now and then, he would make a floorboard creek and the omega would once again look at him with a fear of death in his pale eyes.  
The room the omega had claimed, was completely dark. All the curtains had been drawn. John could hear the wind howling outside. The room was also very cold. It seemed like the omega hadn't turned on the heating, or had forgotten how it worked.  
When the omega eventually trusted him enough for him to move around a little more, the first thing he did, was turn the heating on. The other man was so skinny, that John knew he would be very cold.  
Once his eyes had gotten used to the dark, he was able to examine his patient from a distance. He wasn't happy with what he saw.  
The omega had several wounds and bruises. He was too skinny and very, very dirty. Now that John was close to him, he could smell the sour scent of old sweat and layers of dirt. This man needed a bath, a very long and good one, probably in antibacterial soap. Maybe something against lice and fleas as well, the doctor thought, as he looked at the matted curls of the omega.


	2. Hungry like the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the doctor slowly wins the trust of the omega and Sherlock takes a much needed bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who read the first chapter, just for reading it.  
> I didn't expect people to actually read, or like it! All the nice comments and kudos really made my day!
> 
> As of now I will try to get a new chapter up every week!
> 
> Though I checked the text twice for mistakes, if there are still any left, please let me know :)

The room slowly became darker as night fell.   
John Watson could hear his stomach grumble with hunger, but ignored it. He sat propped up against a heater. His eyes followed every movement of the omega on the other side of the room.  
He wasn't quite sure how long he had sat there. All he knew was that the omega was slowly, very slowly starting to trust him more.   
The skinny man still looked at him with big, worried eyes, but did not freeze in fear every time he moved around. John had observed him for hours now. Though it was almost completely dark in the room, he could see that the omega had several wounds and bruises. He was terribly malnourished. John was however quite certain that Mrs. Hudson's food was helping the omega get healthier. The landlady seemed like the nursing type of person.  
His left leg was starting to cramp and he winced. 'Fuck,' he muttered under his breath.  
The omega, hearing the sound, looked up with a head movement so fast, John was worried he might hurt his neck.  
'No, nothing wrong, just my leg. Sorry to spook you,' John said in a soft voice.  
The omega gave him a suspicious look. The pale eyes almost seemed to study John's entire body. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable. He almost felt like the omega could look straight into his mind.

There was a knock on the door, followed by the voice of Mrs. Hudson.  
The omega gave a small, panicked sound and retreated into one of the darker corners. John got up slowly and limped to the door. He was starting to wish he had brought his cane with him.  
When he opened the door, Mrs. Hudson greeted him with a warm smile and a big tray of steaming hot food. The smell of it was mouth watering.   
She handed the tray to John. 'Just to be clear, I am not a housekeeper,' she said to him, 'But I thought you and him could use a good meal. I thought: the doctor's been in there all afternoon, hasn't even the time to make himself food. Mind you though, next time you'll have to make yourself dinner!'.  
'I'll keep it in mind,' John answered, he felt like he could hug the woman, 'Thank you for the food.'  
She smiled at him and went down the stairs again.  
John re-entered the room with the tray of food. He carefully limped back to his place against the heater. There, he put the tray on the floor and started loading food unto one of the plates.

The omega, who was still in his dark corner, smelled the food as well. He slowly came out of hiding. John pointed at the empty plate and the food and smiled. The omega didn't seem to trust it entirely, but even John could hear his stomach growl.  
'Come,' he said in his friendliest voice, 'Eat. I won't harm you, I swear.'  
He kept repeating those words and coaxed the omega to come closer and closer. Eventually, the skinny man sat on the opposite side of the tray. With his long fingers, he started getting food on his plate, never once looking John in the eye.  
Mrs. Hudson had put a couple of candles on the tray and John silently thanked her for that. The candles brought some much needed light and warmth to the room. He was finally able to see his patient in at least some kind of light.  
He was shocked at how young the omega looked from up close. He was probably in his early twenties, John guessed. There were some strange rashes on the man's arms and John thought he could see injection scars. He cursed silently. Injection scars like that usually meant drugs. Drugs meant addiction. And addiction meant going through withdrawal as soon as the supply of drugs ran out. If that was indeed the case, John and the omega would be in for an eventful couple of weeks.  
The young man didn't seem to be feverish or sick to the stomach though, that gave John some hope. Maybe the drugs had been out of his system for quite a while now.  
The two men ate silently. John tried to discover every wound and bruise on the omega. Who knew how long the man would be sitting this close to him? Now was his chance to actually do some examining.   
The omega kept his eyes on his plate and the floor. His whole posture seemed to scream submissiveness. John could still smell the fear coming from his pale skin.  
He really wished to see the blue eyes again.   
'Do you have a name?' he asked softly.  
The young man looked up at him, then quickly averted his eyes back to the floor.  
No answer came from his lips.  
'My name is John Watson. I'm a doctor,' John said. He tried to look the other man in the eyes.  
The omega tried to look everywhere but at the doctor.   
Still no reply.  
John smiled. He hadn't really expected the omega to speak.  
'It's okay, you don't have to talk if you don't want to.'  
He put his empty plate back on the tray and sighed.   
'I hope you understand me,' he said to the omega, 'Because I want to help you. I was brought here to tend to your wounds. To help you heal.'  
The blue eyes under the dark brows had a concentrated gaze in them. It seemed like the man was at least trying to listen. That gave John some hope.  
'I will go to my own room now, so you and I can sleep. Tomorrow I will come back.'  
With these words, the doctor carefully got up. He left the tray on the floor, so the omega could eat more if he was still hungry.  
Two worried eyes followed him all the way to the door.

When the doctor got to his own room closed the door, he let out a whole string of curses.   
He threw of his jacket and changed into his pyjamas. With a tired sigh he dropped unto the bed, that was surprisingly soft and bouncy.  
It was suddenly very clear to him, why the mysterious mister Holmes had offered him this job. Alphas and omegas had a certain reaction to each other. He could already feel it happening. He was trying with all his might to make the omega trust him, to make it feel safe and wanted. And he knew the omega, wounded and possibly traumatized as it was, was letting him do it.   
John knew, that there was only a handful of alpha doctors in Britain. Most of which operated in the army. Alphas needed action, pressure, dangerous situations. Civilian clinics couldn't offer that. Civilian life as a whole usually couldn't offer that.   
Now that he thought about it, he might have been the only alpha doctor available. He was starting to feel used. Holmes had manipulated him. Had literally made him an offer he knew he couldn't refuse, even if he wanted to. The call of an omega was way too strong to refuse.  
Well, he had gotten himself into quite a situation. He had no idea how to start treating the omega. Holmes had not told him how terrible the state of the omega was, or what had actually happened to him. Ofcourse he hadn't. And John hadn't asked.

It took John a while to fall asleep. He constantly found his mind wandering back to the omega. He thought of the skinny, almost naked man being completely alone and vulnerable. His inner wolf howled at the idea and wanted him to get up en cuddle up with the omega. Rationally he knew that cuddling up wasn't one of the options in this situation.  
With a growl he got his wolf to shut up. He groaned with frustration and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. His leg was seriously acting up and he swore to himself, that he would take his cane with him tomorrow.  
In the end, the doctor fell asleep a couple of hours before the break of dawn.

The next days the doctor and the omega settled into a routine. John would get up, take a shower and bring a tray with breakfast to the rooms of the omega. They would eat breakfast together. After that, John would just sit there for hours.  
Eventually Mrs. Hudson would come with tea or lunch. Even though she constantly claimed not to be a housekeeper, she did behave like one. Every time she swore to John that this would be the last time, but it never was. John liked her.  
On the morning of the fourth day, John reached a breakthrough.   
The omega let the doctor touch him.   
They had just finished lunch. Normally the omega would retreat to one of his corners and watch John from a distance. This time, he stayed right where he was. It was as if, suddenly, he had made the decision that the doctor could be trusted.  
John had noticed the day before, that the omega was no longer scared of him. He had grown used to John and his coming and going. The doctor was very pleased by this.  
The omega sat very still. He studied John with his pale eyes. Though he still didn't dare to look John in the eye directly, he sometimes caught the omega staring at his face.  
The older man wanted to test the limits. He moved closer to the omega. The omega didn't move an inch. He stayed put and didn't even tense up.  
This encouraged John to go a step further. Slowly he lifted up his arm. He made a point of really showing the omega what he was about to do, so it had a chance to get away if it wanted to.   
Then, all of a sudden, he was touching the cold skin of a gaunt arm.  
Even though the omega had been prepared, he gave John a shocked look. Not scared. Just shocked. 

'Would you allow me, to examine your wounds?' the doctor asked.   
He stared at the omega, waiting for some kind of response.   
Then, very slowly, the omega nodded.   
John gave him a warm smile.   
'I promise I will be careful, though it might hurt here and there.'  
The omega gave another nod. He seemed to understand what needed to be done.

John let go of the omega and carefully opened one of the curtains. He explained to the omega that, in order to examine him, he needed he light. The omega didn't seem to be too happy about this, but allowed the alpha to open the curtains of two windows.  
The doctor called the omega to him. The young man slowly moved into the light. It clearly had been a long time ago since he saw daylight. He held one of his hands in front of his eyes to protect them.  
John walked up to the omega, again making himself as small as possible.   
He touched the man on the shoulders, to let him know he would be starting the examination.   
His alpha noticed that the omega almost moved into to the touch and it made a happy sound.  
It took John a while to examine to man properly.   
He was happy to discover there was no serious damage. Most of the wounds had already started to heal. Some of the more angry bruises were slowly turning green and yellow.   
With an angry frown, the doctor noticed that the young man had bruises around his neck, as if someone had tried to strangle him.  
He also got a better look at the injection scars. They seemed to be old, older than any of the other bruises. Later on, he wasn't surprised when he found the same kind of scarring between some toes and fingers. The tell-tale signs of drug use. The omega seemed to be the most ashamed of those wounds. He tried to hide his face every time John found one.

At the end of the examination, the most serious thing John had found, were bruised ribs. The ribs were still quite sore. The omega gasped in pain, every time John touched one of them.  
'Well,' John said, 'Considering the circumstances, you seem to be pretty healthy. Just a couple of bruised ribs. Nothing that won't heal on its own.'  
He smiled at the young man.   
'Now unto another subject. You need a bath.'  
A slightly panicked look appeared on the face of the man. John frowned.   
'Can't you smell yourself? I think you would be much happier, when you're clean.'  
The omega didn't respond. It had a bit of an embarrassed look.   
When he thought John wasn't watching, he smelled himself. His long nose wrinkled.   
'Want me to fill you a bath?' John asked with smile. The omega nodded in a gesture of defeat.

Together they walked to the bathroom. There John filled the bathtub with water and a good supply of soap. He made sure clean towels were available and pointed the omega to a toothbrush and toothpaste.  
'It's all yours,' he said and turned to the door. He wanted to give the younger man some privacy at least.  
The omega shed the little clothes he wore and stepped into the bath.  
A sound of excitement came from his throat, as he let himself sink into the warm water and bubbles.  
John smiled.   
'Just let that soak in. I will be in the next room.'  
He made sure the omega wouldn't get out of his bath, then he closed the door behind him.  
The first thing he did, was go through the room and search for clothes.  
After a couple of minutes, he found a wardrobe, filled with what seemed to be very expensive clothing. All of it seemed to be roughly in the omega's size.   
John got the omega clean underwear and a soft pair of pyjamas. 

He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a lot of panicked splashing.  
When he entered the bathroom he averted his eyes to the floor and pointed at the clothes.  
'Just came to bring you these.'  
The doctor got a glimpse of a very flustered omega when he closed the bathroom door again.

An hour later, a clean omega stepped out of the bathroom.   
Without the layers of dirt and sweat, the young man made an almost human impression.   
John couldn't help but smile.   
For a very short moment, the omega stood at his full size, before going back to his submissive posture again. John noticed that the omega was at least a head taller than himself. Somehow, this made his inner wolf want the omega even more. He really hoped the omega hadn't noticed that.  
'The change a bath can make!' said the doctor with a friendly voice.  
The omega made a facial expression that could almost be read as a smile.  
It was then, that Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door to bring their dinner.  
John expected the omega to run for one of his corners. It didn't. It did seem a bit scared, but it didn't move from its spot. The doctor thought it was as if the omega was trying to test its own limits.  
He took the tray with food from Mrs. Hudson and thanked her. The landlady gave the omega a curious, but friendly look and went downstairs again.

This time John didn't place the tray on the floor. Instead, he walked to a table under one of the windows.   
He could hear the omega follow him. Bare, slightly damp feet, on the wooden floorboards.  
The doctor sat himself down in one of the chairs and gestured the omega to come sit across from him. He gave a reassuring smile. The omega lingered for a bit.   
His eyes looked at the John, the chair and then back again to John.   
Eventually he made up his mind and carefully placed himself on the chair. He didn't seem entirely relaxed, but also didn't look like he was about to run away. John was happy enough with just that.  
He gave the omega a plated filled with food and gave the man a warm smile.   
Today had been a day of progress and he was proud of his patient.


	3. The Wolf that Talked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the omega talks and Watson learns his name at last.

The first week was over before John realized it. Yet, it felt as if he'd been in the mansion for at least ten years. His routine with the omega continued. Every day he got up early, made breakfast and tea, carried it up to the rooms of the omega, ate breakfast with him and then just sat on the floor or in a chair for hours on end.  
Every couple of days the omega allowed him to examine the remaining wounds. John had even persuaded the omega to do a blood test. John wasn't quite sure what had happened to him, but he wanted to be one hundred percent sure he hadn't missed any diseases.  
The omega was now almost comfortable around him. There seemed to be a complete change in his behaviour. Now when John came, the he seemed to be happy. John couldn't be entirely sure about this ofcourse, as the omega still refused to talk. Still, it felt as if he was now totally accepting John's presence and even enjoyed it.

It was a particularly rainy afternoon, when the omega decided that the moment had come to speak.   
'Afghanistan or Iraq,' said a hoarse voice. It was nothing more than a whisper.  
John, who was just about to doze off, looked at the omega with a surprised frown.  
'Sorry, what,' he said, a little confused.  
The omega raised his dark brows.   
'Afghanistan or Iraq,' he said again, this time a bit louder.   
'How could you possibly..,' started John. He shook his head. 'Afghanistan.'.  
The omega studied him openly and nodded slowly.  
It was silent for a long while. John was still confused. He had about a hundred questions that he wanted to ask the omega, but all of a sudden he didn't know where to begin. Or if maybe, he had dreamt it all. The omega seemed to be his silent self again at least.  
The doctor stretched his leg with a painful grumble.   
There was knock on the door. 'Your tea!,' said the voice of Mrs. Hudson.  
Before John could get up, the omega did.   
It slowly, but decidedly started walking to the door. John raised his brows and just watched.  
When the omega got to the door he paused, but only for a couple of seconds. Then he grabbed the handle and opened the door inch by inch, until it was completely opened.  
Mrs. Hudson was a bit surprised to meet the omega at the door, but did a good job of hiding it. She smiled one of her brightest smiles and handed the tray with tea and cookies to him.  
'Here's your tea. The cookies are freshly baked, so be careful, they're still hot!,' her eyes curiously studied the young man while she spoke.  
The omega nodded and turned away from the door. He closed it with his foot.  
With the tray in his hands, he walked to the table where John sat. The doctor was bewildered.   
These actions had come to him as an utter surprise. He just stared at the omega.  
Eventually he got a hold on himself and smiled.  
'Thank you,' he said, when the omega poured him a cup of tea.  
The omega, although silent again, seemed to radiate a new kind of energy. It was still submissive, still a bit careful, but there was a huge change. 

'How did you know?,' said John, when he had finished his tea.  
He looked at the omega, who was nibbling on one of the cookies with a look of content.  
It's eyes darted to John when the question was posed, but the answer seemed to take a while.   
'How could you possibly know that?,' asked John again.  
'Easy,' answered the omega at last. His voice was very soft. The raspy tone of it, made John think it might have been quite a while since the omega last used his voice. Yet, when the answer was given, it was done with an air of superiority. Almost a verbal eye roll.   
He was quite certain the omega was starting to find his personality back.  
'Could you try to explain?' asked the doctor.  
The silence was longer this time. John could hear the rain and wind smash against the windows. The world outside was already darkening. In a little while they'd need candles or a lamp to see each other properly. John had come to the conclusion that autumn on the moors was even darker and wetter than autumn in London.  
'I deduced it,' said the omega after what seemed an hour.  
John raised one eyebrow.   
'You deduced it?,' he said slowly, 'How?'.  
The omega sighed. It was soft, but audible. It was the sigh of someone who'd had to explain something over and over again for years on end. The omega looked at John. He still didn't dare to make eye contact, but at least looked John in the face now. A toilful look appeared on his face. And then one of very clear frustration.  
The omega stood up and walked to one of its dark corners again.  
John followed the movements with a little bit of worry. The omega was agitated. He had put his head between his hands and was biting his lip slightly bloody.  
The doctor stood up as well and walked over to the omega. He kneeled down when he came close.   
Carefully he touched the omega on the knee.  
Two pale blue eyes looked up at him. There was panic in them.  
'It's okay,' said the doctor in his most soothing voice.  
The omega shook its head furiously.   
'Yes, it is,' said the doctor, more sternly now.  
'It is completely okay. You will be okay. Just remember to breath.'  
He placed both of his hands on the omega's knees. He didn't want to scare it more by placing them somewhere out of sight. With his touch he tried to ground the omega.   
'You don't have to tell me right now, that's okay. You made quite some surprising progress today. It's only to be expected this situation you're in, won't solve our heal itself in one day.'  
The doctor smiled. He could feel the omega's breath and heart beat calming down.  
His alpha grumbled with satisfaction. His touch was doing this.  
'We're going to have to take this slow. Don't expect too much, too soon.'  
Eventually the omega calmed down. The panic disappeared from the eyes and face and was replaced by fatigue and a slight look of dejection.  
'As your doctor, I advise you to get some rest now,' said Watson.

Watson watched as the omega got into bed. Within ten minutes he was sound asleep.   
He lingered for a while. To himself he said it was to make sure his patient was alright. That was a lie, ofcourse. His alpha wanted to watch over the omega. Wanted to cuddle up to it and make it feel safe and warm and wanted. When the urge to build a nest became too strong, Watson took his leave.  
That night Watson had trouble falling asleep. Now that the omega had showed it could talk, there were so many things the doctor wanted to know. To start with a name, ofcourse. And then, what had happened to the omega. Why it had refused to talk. Who had left those nasty bruises. And ofcourse what in hell's name deducing was supposed to mean.   
He knew his questions would have to wait. If he asked them all at once, the omega would get overwhelmed again. It was obvious that he hadn't been able to talk for a while. There seemed to be great difficulty in forming coherent or long sentences.   
He sighed and turned on his stomach. His inner wolf was basically howling at him to let it out. The control it took, to keep the wolf down, was wearing him out. In the army he'd had suppressants to keep his alpha in check. Going full alpha when you were a doctor was frowned upon. And for good reasons. Besides, having full grown werewolves on a battlefield usually didn't do much good.  
But now, there were no suppressants. There was only self control.   
And it was wearing very thin.  
The full moon would be coming soon. He didn't know if he would be able to keep himself from turning. Especially now that his alpha knew that there was a weak and suffering omega in the building. An omega that was very likely too weak to even be able to turn.

The next few days, the omega kept to himself. It seemed to be ashamed of its breakdown.  
John sat with him. Talked to him. Read some books and articles.   
Eventually the omega came closer again. This pleased John and his alpha.   
It was a full week after the omega had first spoken, when he used his voice again.  
'I want to explain,' he said hoarsely, 'but I can't.'  
The omega moved its hands in a sort of melodramatic way.  
'The words won't come.'  
There was frustration in the voice.   
John smiled slightly.  
'It's okay,' he said, 'They will come eventually. I am sure of that.'  
The omega shook its head angrily.  
'I want them now!,' its nose wrinkled up in anger.  
Panic seeped into the last screamed word of the sentence.  
John sighed and nodded.  
'I understand that, I really do,' he said calmly, 'It must be very frustrating to not be able to speak your mind. Be patient with yourself. Give it time. Maybe reading a book will help.'  
The omega looked at him as if that was the most lame-brained thing he had ever heard.  
The doctor frowned.  
'Sitting here and being angry with yourself certainly won't do anything,' said the doctor with a slight huff, 'I know you are angry and frustrated and possibly quite scared. But that won't go away by just staying angry.'  
The omega sighed. John could swear he saw the pale eyes roll up in a dramatic fashion.  
The young man was definitely finding his personality back. 

After a while, John persuaded the omega into reading some books. The younger man still refused to leave his rooms, so the doctor went to the library of the house and got a stack.  
He didn't know exactly what to get, so he got a bit of everything.  
Even though the omega hadn't approved of even the idea of reading, once he got his nimble hands on the books, he seemed quite content. He took the stack to one of his corners, turned on the light and started reading.  
John thought he could hear the omega mumble some words, like 'mind palace' and 'psychosomatic'.  
He frowned at the last word and felt his leg cramp up slightly.   
John left the omega to his reading and decided to have an early night.  
When he came back the next morning, the omega was wide awake and still reading. What was the most dumbfounding to the doctor, was that there was only one book left on the stack. The others had been discarded to and fro.   
'Good morning,' he said with a smile. He placed the breakfast tray on the table.  
The omega didn't hear him. He frowned and waited a bit.  
'Good morning', he repeated a bit louder.  
This startled the omega. He looked up and blinked confused.  
'Morning?' he asked.  
'Yes, morning,' answered the doctor.  
'Impossible,' mumbled the omega, going back to his book.  
'Did you even sleep?' asked John, a bit worried.  
No reaction. The omega kept reading. If his eyes had moved over the paper faster, they would have burned right through it.  
The doctor sighed and sat down.   
'Will you come and have breakfast with me?', he expected no answer to this question.  
To his surprise however, the omega got up and walked to the table, while still reading his book.   
John took a sip from his tea and read his newspaper for a bit.  
'I actually have a question for you,' he said after a while.  
The omega didn't respond, but he had gotten used to that by now.  
'What is your name?' he asked.  
Though reading, the young man was obviously listening to him. He lifted his eyes from the paper and, for the first time looked John in the eye. The moment was short, but John could feel a shiver coming up his spine. The hairs on his arms were raised. His wolf howled.  
'Sherlock Holmes,' answered the omega. His voice was still hoarse, but it had become slightly smoother. There was a deep and dark tone to it.  
John frowned. 'Holmes?,' he asked slowly.  
The omega nodded. His eyes on the pages of the book again.  
'The man who hired me was named that as well, according to Mrs. Hudson at least,' he said.  
'Brother,' was al he got as an answer.  
Though it was one word, it made a lot clear to Watson. It explained why the other Holmes would hire an alpha doctor. He wasn't the alpha of the omega, but his brother. Ofcourse, some brothers would nurse each other back to health after traumatizing events. But John was starting to suspect that the two Holmes brothers didn't have that kind of relationship.  
'Anyway,' he said after a while, 'it is nice to meet you, Sherlock.'  
He extended a hand.  
The omega took his eyes of the pages again. Something of a mocking smile formed in the blue eyes.  
He did take the hand however.  
'Nice to meet you, John.'  
They shook each other's hand. John could feel the pale and strong fingers slightly squeezing his own short ones. They were cold. He suppressed a shiver.  
The deep baritone voice of the omega awakened something in him that he was not familiar with. It started somewhere in the pit of his stomach and travelled through his whole body. The sensation wasn't unpleasant. His wolf howled at him. It wanted to be set free.   
John grimaced as he forced the animal back to the edges of his mind. His wolf hadn't been this active in months, possibly years.  
He had the feeling, this full moon might be quite an interesting one.  
As he looked over to the omega, another shiver went through his spine.  
Sherlock was reading again. He didn't realize the turmoil he'd caused.  
Probably for the best.   
John felt another one of those mocking smiles would be his undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who read my previous chapters!  
> The comments and kudos, and basically knowing people are reading it, really motivate me to continue this! :)
> 
> Again, when you find grammar or spelling errors, please let me know.  
> I really wanted to get this chapter up, so I might have been a bit sloppy here and there...
> 
> I really like how the relationship between John and Sherlock is starting to develop!  
> As any writer, probably, I'm always surprised by the things the characters decide to do.  
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoy writing it!
> 
> The next chapter will be up next week :)


	4. The Wolf and the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the full moon.  
> Sherlock is in no condition to turn, but has no other choice.  
> This ofcourse has John worried out his mind.  
> Their wolves meet for the very first time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter yay!  
> Thought it was time to write the werewolf part in :)
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who read my previous chapters!  
> I haven't had this much fun writing in years :3
> 
> Hope you enjoy your read :)  
> And as always: if you find mistakes, please let me know.

It was the day of the full moon. John was restless. He felt like he might literally burst out of his own skin. His thoughts were scrambled and got more and more agitated during the end of the day. His wolf was impatient. It wanted to be free: right this instant.  
Sherlock had been quiet all day. The doctor had brought him some new books that morning, but he hadn't touched them. He sat in one of his dark corners and stared at the windows, dressed in nothing more than a pair of pyjama pants and a blue dressing gown.  
He sat with his knees under his chin, his arms hugging them tightly.  
If the doctor hadn't been so busy with keeping his wolf under control, he would've noticed that the omega was shivering. It was a slight shiver, not a violent one, but it was clearly there.  
It took the doctor until that afternoon to notice something was off.  
He frowned.  
The omega hadn't moved from its position all these hours. His cup of tea and lunch were untouched.  
Now he did notice the shivering. And the tension in the gaunt body.  
John got up and very slowly moved closer to the omega. There were still times when he would startle or scare the younger man and he did not want to do that right now.  
When he was close enough, he kneeled down.  
'Are you okay?,' he asked with a worried voice.  
The omega didn't answer. His pale eyes were locked on the windows with an empty stare.  
Now that the doctor was close, he could see the omega had gritted his teeth. There was a grimace on the long face. John realized with a shock, that it was a grimace of pain.  
This realisation was almost enough to make his alpha wolf spin out of control. He growled.  
With a tremendous amount of self control, he pushed the wolf back in. A protesting shiver went all the way through his spine. He trembled and took a couple of deep breaths.  
'Sherlock,' he said, 'I need you to tell me what's wrong.'.  
Carefully he placed one of his hands on the arms of the omega.  
The touch was enough to get Sherlock's attention. He blinked at John. The pain now clear in his eyes.  
A very soft whine escaped from his throat. He shivered.  
'Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself?,' asked the doctor, while his eyes searched the omega's body for wounds or signs of bruising. There was nothing.  
Sherlock shook his head slowly.  
There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, the doctor spotted.  
With a worried frown he placed his other hand on Sherlock's brow. There was no fever. Maybe a slight elevation in temperature, but it wasn't enough to cause the shivering.  
Suddenly another realisation dawned on him. He cursed.  
'It's the moon, isn't it,' he croaked.  
The omega nodded. A distraught look on his face.  
John took a deep breath. This was not good. The omega was in no shape to turn. With his body in this condition, turning would be quite a grievous experience.  
All kinds of panicky thoughts ran through John's mind. He had brought his medicine kit with him, but that didn't carry nearly enough suppressants to stop an actual turning. You needed a small chemical bomb to accomplish that.  
'How long has it been, since you last turned?,' John asked the omega.  
Sherlock shook his head. 'Don't know,' he rasped, 'Long time.'.  
Another pained whine escaped his lips after that.  
John got up and put a blanket around the shoulders of the suffering omega.  
'Stay where you are, I will be right back,' he said. His voice sounded less calm than he wanted.

The doctor ran to his own room and got his medical kit.  
After that he ran downstairs to search for Mrs. Hudson. She was in the kitchen, busy making dinner.  
When she saw the look on his face, she dropped her knife.  
'What is wrong, John,' she asked.  
'Sherlock is going to turn. Tonight. I need you to boil as much water as possible. I need hot compresses to ease the pain.'  
The woman nodded and immediately started doing what was asked of her.  
'I'll bring it right up, dear,' she said,' You go back to him.'.  
The doctor nodded and hastily made his way back up the stairs.  
Sherlock was sitting in the same spot, he hadn't moved a millimetre. The shivering had gotten more violent in the doctor's absence.  
'I am going to administer some pain killers,' said John, while he rummaged through his kit, 'It won't be enough to stop all of the pain, but it might take the edge off.'.  
He gently pulled one of the omega's arms to him and searched for a vein. There seemed to be some protest in the blue eyes, but once the painkillers hit the bloodstream, there was only relieve.  
John smiled when some of the pain disappeared from the younger man's face. The gaunt body relaxed slightly, the shivering almost stopping.  
'Now, listen to me, I am going to need you to get up,' said John. He looked the omega in the eyes.  
That same strange feeling came over him as last time. It was as if something awakened in the depth of his stomach and mind. He shook it away. There was no time for such a thing now.  
With a huff and a helping hand from the doctor, the omega got up.  
Most of his weight now rested on John's shoulders. He could feel the elevated heart rate of the omega through his clothes. And the heat of skin against skin.  
Slowly they walked to the bed.  
Once on it, the omega immediately curled up on himself.  
John waited at the side of the bed, until Mrs. Hudson came in with the hot water.  
There was a compassionate look on her face. The compresses she brought, smelled of lavender.  
'My brother used to get bad turns when he was a teenager, the herbs always seemed to help back then,' she said with a hopeful smile.  
John thanked her. She left the room with a worried look at Sherlock.  
Sherlock cried out when a particularly violent shiver contorted his whole body.  
John bit his lip. He rolled up his sleeves and started getting the compresses on the shivering body.  
The scent of lavender and other herbs filled the room. It did seem to relax Sherlock slightly.  
Night fell as John took care of the sick omega.  
He could feel the moonlight, before he saw it. It prickled his skin where it fell through openings in the curtains. Something that he could only describe as a ripple, vibrated through his body.  
He knew it wouldn't be long before his own turning began. His wolf was quiet now, though. It was worried about the omega. It very clearly didn't want to turn, until it knew Sherlock would be alright.

It was after midnight, when Sherlock finally started physically turning.  
John was sitting beside the bed and had dozed off. He woke up when a scream tore through the room. His eyes immediately searched for Sherlock.  
The omega had crawled off the bed. He sat in front of the window. His whole body was shivering. Heavy tremors ran through the back of the younger man as spinal disks changed shape and place.  
He was scratching at his chest with nails that weren't quite human anymore. A distressed howl escaped his throat.  
Instinctively John knew, Sherlock needed another wolf to be there right now. The omega's wolf was scared and confused, he could smell it in the air.  
The thought of the omega being alone and scared, was all it took to wake up his own wolf again. It growled as it came out. He could feel his bones breaking and rearranging. Fur started to grow on his arms. Big muscles bulged under his skin. His whole body ached and screamed.  
When it was over, he stood on four legs. He shook his furry body to get rid of the last shivers.  
Within three large leaps, he was next to the omega.  
He put his snout against the man's neck, in an effort to calm him down.  
The man cried in pain as every bone in his body broke.  
John gave him some space. He walked back and forth with a worried stride.  
Eventually the cries changed into howls, as nose was replaced by snout and hands and feet by paws.  
With a final shiver the omega dropped down on the floor. His breath uneven, small whines still coming from his throat.  
John walked closer. The omega wolf was beautiful, even in this condition. It had a raven black fur, which glistened in the moonlight. Slender, agile legs lay scrambled on the floor.  
John nudged the other wolf with his snout. A pained snarl was the answer.  
It took Sherlock almost half an hour to stand up. He was shaky at first, his paws unbalanced and his movements groggy.  
The black wolf sniffed the air. The scent of the alpha wolf was everywhere.  
With slow steps, he got closer to John. He bowed his head, making his submission clear.  
John wagged his tail. He put his nose deep into the omega's fur and sniffed. The musky scent got lodged into his memory. This was Sherlock's scent. This was his omega's scent!  
Sherlock warily sniffed at the alpha. There was distrust in his eyes.  
John lowered his head and presented his own throat in an effort to make it clear to the omega he was not dangerous. He didn't want to harm the omega. Not in the least.  
When that didn't help, he unceremoniously flopped on his back.  
The omega seemed a bit bewildered at this gesture. Yet, he cautiously got closer and nudged the alpha's belly and sides. John could see his tail wagging slightly as he did so.  
As time progressed, Sherlock relaxed more. It was clear his wolf hadn't come out in quite a while and was a bit out of habit. The painful turning hadn't helped either.  
Normally, John wanted to run and chase things when he turned, but he knew that wasn't an option with Sherlock. Not yet at least. The omega didn't have the strength for it.  
Together they walked up and down the room, destroyed some blankets and pillows and scratched doors and wardrobes. They ate everything that was even slightly edible.  
At first the omega was careful and timid.  
It followed John like a shadow, but never allowed the alpha to get too close. As the night went on, he started to trust the alpha more. The alpha did everything that was possible to earn the trust of the slender, black wolf. He even gave up a few of his meals for the omega.  
After a couple of hours, Sherlock was exhausted. He started shivering again. Low whines came from his throat as he dropped down on his side.  
John walked over to him, a blanket between his teeth. He tucked the omega in as well as he could without the use of opposable thumbs. Then he laid down besides the omega. He was careful not to get too close, since the omega had disliked that for the better part of the night. When the omega didn't growl or snarl, he shuffled closer and closer, until their bodies were touching.  
Eventually Sherlock relaxed enough to fall asleep. When he did, his head was on John's paws. He had put his body as close to the alpha as possible. The alpha was pleased with this. This was what he had wanted for weeks. The omega was cuddled up against him, completely enveloped in his alpha smell. Completely safe.

The next morning, John was the first to wake up.  
A stupid grin appeared on his face when he realized he was basically spooning the omega.  
When he realized they were both as good as naked, the grin quickly disappeared and he blushed.  
He looked around the room, searching for something to wear.  
With some effort, he grabbed one of the sheets from the bed. He pulled it towards him, all the while making sure Sherlock didn't wake up. The omega needed his sleep.  
He carefully wrapped the sheet around himself to cover up all the parts that needed covering up. Then he rearranged the blanket that he had pulled over the omega the previous night.  
He studied the face underneath the dark curls. There were still some traces of pain left.  
As if the omega knew the alpha was looking at him, he woke up that instant. Two pale blue eyes groggily locked into the doctor's brown ones.  
The blooming sensation returned to John's stomach. It washed over him as a warm wave. If it was at all possible, he wanted to look into those eyes forever.  
They stayed like that for a bit. Both staring at each other.  
John could see the omega's brain starting up and processing what had happened the previous night.  
Sherlock was the one to break the eye contact. He was also the one to break their body contact.  
With a couple of quick movements, he rolled away from the doctor, gathered the blanket around his body and sat up. He winced as his aching joints complained of the series of movements.  
His nose wrinkled as he noticed the alpha's smell was all over him.  
'Good morning,' John said with a small smile.  
Sherlock didn't answer him. His thoughts were clearly somewhere else.  
John shook his head and got up to search for the remains of his clothes.  
He muttered a curse when he found his favourite jumper in tatters.  
'I'm going to take a shower and make breakfast,' he said and turned around.  
Sherlock was standing next to the window now. The blanket thrown around his body like a toga.  
He looked at Watson with a confused frown.  
'Will you be okay, while I'm going away for a bit?'.  
The omega nodded and waved his hand. 'Yes, yes, I'll be fine,' he muttered.

When John got back with breakfast, Sherlock had taken a shower. He was dressed in a well fitting suit. The doctor blinked. This was the first time he saw the omega in actual clothing. The younger man had spent most of the previous weeks in either pyjamas or his dressing gown.  
The suit gave him an air of aristocratic superiority.  
John realized this must have been what the omega looked like, before he got himself into some traumatizing event. The older man cleared his throat and made his way to the table.  
Sherlock turned around. There was a deep frown on his face. His eyes were dark.  
Neither of them spoke a word during breakfast.  
Actually, neither of them spoke that entire day. Not to each other at least.  
Sherlock flopped down on one of the leather couches and started on the new stack of books. He'd gotten through three books when evening fell. Every time he finished one, he carelessly threw it on the floor.  
John's first action was to tidy up the room. Their wolves had made a big mess. Tattered sheets and pillows lay to and fro. Feathers and fluff drifted up in the air every time the doctor put one of his feet down. When that was done the room looked decent again.  
He tried to relax and read the paper. He found, however, that he was completely unable to concentrate.Every now and then, he could feel the omega staring at him. 

It was nearly midnight when John decided it was time to get some sleep.  
He got up and was halfway to the door, when he heard Sherlock's voice. The words had been spoken too softly to understand, so he turned around to ask for clarification.  
Sherlock had a flustered look on his face. The hand with the book in it, was at his side, forgotten for now. His brows frowned slightly as he willed his voice to be louder.  
'Stay, please.'.


	5. The Wolf Who Played The Violin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets an invitation to sleep in the same bed as Sherlock.  
> Sherlock gets his violin back.

John blinked.  
He could feel his mouth trying to form words, without any actual sound coming out.  
He cleared his throat and nodded.  
'Yes, sure,' he said, 'Yes.'.  
Sherlock seemed to be relieved when he said that. A small sigh escaped his body.  
He suddenly remembered the book in his hand and hid his face behind it.  
'I am going to need to get my pyjamas, though,' said the doctor, 'But I'll be back shortly.'.  
The younger man nodded and turned his back to the doctor.  
John stumbled out of the room, completely flabbergasted.   
This was entirely new.  
Maybe it had something to do with the turning? Had Sherlock's wolf latched on to John's? He'd had a puzzled look on his face most of the day. Suddenly John started wondering what exactly Sherlock had been so puzzled about.  
In a hurry he changed into his pyjamas.   
He returned to Sherlock's room with a comfortable jumper, slippers and a toothbrush.  
Sherlock was already in bed. He was still reading his book. Or at least pretending to read it in an attempt to hide the flustered look on his face.

When John had brushed his teeth, he looked around the room.  
There was ofcourse only one bed. His alpha whined happily at the thought of being able to sleep next to the omega again. John pushed the thought away. He wasn't entirely sure if Sherlock wanted that.  
He swayed his arms awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.  
The omega, without saying a word, opened the blankets next to him in an inviting gesture.  
John frowned. With slow steps he walked over to the bed.  
He climbed into it in a haze of bewilderment.  
When he was under the covers, he tried to get as comfortable as possible, without touching the omega. He was still unsure what the meaning of this was.   
Sherlock didn't speak a word. John didn't know whether this was because he still had trouble finding words, or because in this moment the young man just didn't know what to say.  
After what seemed like forever, Sherlock put his book away and turned off the light.  
A surprised sound escaped John's mouth, when Sherlock moved his body closer to the alpha. He stopped when they were just millimetres away from touching each other.   
John could feel Sherlock breathing, could hear his heart beat, could even feel his warmth. And he could feel how tense the omega's body was.   
Without thinking, he moved closer.   
Their bodies were touching.   
He was afraid Sherlock might break away again.  
His wolf howled happily, when the omega moved into the touch.  
Instinctively, John put his arm around Sherlock's waist.  
At first, the young man tensed up. Then he sighed and his whole body relaxed.  
John smiled. Dark curls were brushing his face. His nose was very nearly buried in Sherlock's neck.   
They stayed like that for a while. Silent and still.   
John feared he might break the spell if he started speaking.

'Sherlock,' he asked softly, ultimately unable to live with the doubt.  
'Nightmares,' Sherlock answered.  
The doctor opened and closed his mouth, not able to react to the cryptic response.  
'I always have nightmares,' the omega mumbled into his pillow, 'But last night, I didn't.'.  
'And you think that's because of me?,' John asked. Ofcourse it is, growled his alpha proudly.  
He could feel the young man nod.  
'That is my theory,' he said. His voice had a timid tone to it.  
John hid his smile in the hairs of the omega. He knew the young man probably had trouble with trusting anyone so close to his body. So, if he wanted to be able to cuddle up and feel save under the guise of a scientific theory, that was fine by him.

Eventually John fell asleep. He had wanted to stay awake and see how the omega drifted off to sleep. Hear his breaths, listen to his heartbeat at rest. However, he had been more tired than he had realized.  
It was Sherlock who stayed awake. His eyes pierced the darkness. The arm of the doctor lay heavy around his waist. Yet instead of annoyance, he felt comfort. The arm grounded him, gave him the feeling he was being protected: that he was safe.   
He had felt this the night before and had been curious whether it would be the same when they were both in their human form. To his own astonishment, it was.   
The doctor let out a content sigh against his neck and he felt a warm shiver travel down his spine.   
Safe in the dark, Sherlock felt a smile on his lips. Flustered he placed a cool hand on his cheek.   
A warm feeling was starting to build up in his stomach. He had never felt like this before. It confused him. Was he getting sick? Or was this some sort of omega reaction to a protective and caring alpha? He knew other alphas, some of them could be described as caring. They had never made him feel like this. Ever. Sherlock's thoughts went into high speed and they tired him out.   
Then the doctor, in his sleep, grumbled happily and pulled the omega closer into his arms.  
Sherlock could feel his body melt into the warmth of the alpha. An involuntary sigh escaped his mouth. His whole body relaxed. With a last deep breath the omega closed his eyes and slept.

Some days passed and the two men got used to their new routine. During the day they would go their separate ways. John usually did some cleaning, got out his laptop and read the papers. Sherlock read four or five books, stared out of the windows and flopped down dramatically on several surfaces.   
It was on the seventh day of the new routine, that John started to realize he was falling in love.   
Even the mere thought of the realisation shocked him. Ofcourse he had felt a bond with the omega the minute he met him, but that had been different. It had been his wolf's reaction to the omega wolf. This was his human mind, falling in love with another human.   
He frowned. Now that he thought about it, it felt different for his wolf as well: his alpha was all over the place. It constantly wanted him to bury his nose into Sherlock's neck, or give the omega presents and tokens of appreciation. It was unbearably tiresome and a bit embarrassing.   
The doctor spend most of the day fighting the urge to pick flowers and sing ballads. A blush was never far away.  
Ofcourse, Sherlock's brother chose that day to give a call.  
It had been five weeks since John had first entered the mansion. In all those weeks, Mr. Holmes hadn't called even once. He hadn't given any sign that he was curious about Sherlock's healing. Nor any other sign of life or existence for that matter.  
The call came that afternoon. John was just on his way back from a short walk on the moors. He had tried to get Sherlock to come with him, some fresh air would probably do the omega good. Sherlock had refused to leave his chambers, as always. The doctor knew he would have to convince the omega to leave his safe spot sooner or later. He was plotting on how to actually accomplish that, when his phone rang.  
'Hello?', he said a little surprised, he hadn't had a call from anyone in weeks.  
'Good afternoon, mister Watson, ' said a lofty voice on the other side.  
'Good afternoon, mister Holmes,' answered Watson with a slight grumble.   
He did not like the other Holmes, at all.  
'Has the omega made any progress,' said Mycroft, John could hear he was trying to mask the eagerness in his voice with an extra layer of arrogance.  
'Your brother,' he said slowly, hoping to surprise his caller, 'Is in fact making progress. His wounds have practically healed. He has even started speaking again.'  
'Has he told you yet, what happened to him.'  
'I'm afraid not,' said John with a sigh, 'He simply refuses to talk about that topic. At first I thought he might have some kind of memory loss, but now I know he is probably too afraid to speak about it.'  
'You are trying, doctor, I hope, to converse with him about it. It is of the utmost importance that I know. The ones who are responsible for this situation, will be brought to justice. Remember, dear doctor, that I do not pay you to make small talk with your patient. I hired you to heal my brother,' there was a long and cold silence after that. John nervously fidgeted with his scarf.  
'In the mean time,' Holmes spoke after a while, 'I have send some belongings of my brother to the mansion. They should arrive shortly. They might help in the healing process.'  
After that, the man hung up the phone.  
John let out a heavy sigh and put the phone away.  
The arrogant voice was still ringing in his ears, when he got back to the mansion. He could see Sherlock standing in one of the windows. A book in his hands, a distant look in his eyes and on his face. He smiled when the omega looked up from his book for a short moment to give him a small nod.

Sherlock's belongings, arrived late that afternoon.  
Mrs. Hudson came to the chambers they now shared and told them there were five big boxes downstairs. They seemed heavy. They had Sherlock's name written on them.  
Sherlock got an eager look on his face. It was clear he wanted those boxes.  
John knew this was his chance to get to omega out of his room and into the world.  
'Mrs. Hudson said those boxes were heavy. She will never be able to lift them,' he said slowly.  
Sherlock looked at him with confusion.  
'For god sakes, Sherlock, don't act like a fool,' John cried out with a smile, 'We are going to have to carry those boxes upstairs. The two of us. Together.'  
'But the boxes are downstairs,' Sherlock said.  
'Yes, yes they are,' the doctor smiled.  
There was a silence.   
The two men looked at each other. Sherlock did not want to leave the room, his face made that clear. John, however, was determined to get the omega to go downstairs. He got up and signed the younger man to follow him. He smiled when he heard a dramatic sigh and bare feet on the floor.  
Sherlock took a few steps to door and then seemed to waver.  
John walked to the door with a reassuring gesture and took a step over the threshold.   
Slowly and very carefully, Sherlock followed his example. When he stepped out into the corridor, his eyes were fearful. He stayed close to John.  
'Great,' John said reassuringly, 'You are out of the door. A few more steps and you've reached the stairs. Just follow me.'  
The omega eyed his door a few times. John was wondering if he wanted to make a run for it. To his relieve however, Sherlock followed him shakily to the stairs.  
It took them at least fifteen minutes to get down the stairs, and ten minutes more to make it to the hallway where the boxes stood. All the way Sherlock looked wary of his surroundings. It was as if behind every door or window, he suspected some kind of harm.  
It was when they got to the boxes, that he found back a small part of his confidence.  
Mrs. Hudson hadn't lied, the boxes were heavy.   
John could feel his muscles complain all the way up the stairs and into the room. Ofcourse, he had somehow gotten it into his head that carrying two boxes at once would be a good idea.  
The omega carried one of the lighter boxes up. He was exhausted when he came back to his room.   
John let him stay there, while he got the last two boxes.   
Although he was happy Sherlock had walked out of his room, he knew they shouldn't push it. Once was enough for today.

When John came back with the last box, Sherlock was unpacking the others. They contained a lot of books and what seemed to be police case files.   
In one of them, wrapped carefully in bubble wrap and brown paper, was a beautiful violin.  
Sherlock let out a surprised sound when he found the instrument. He stroked the dark wood with his pale fingers. Then he fiddled with the strings, filling the room with raspy sounds.   
Before John knew it, he was enjoying a private violin concerto.  
Even though it must have been quite a while since the omega played the instrument, he did it marvellously well. John knew very little about classical music, but he recognized some of the melodies. There was something about the melancholy sound of a violin that struck a chord with him.   
Sherlock played until Mrs. Hudson brought up their dinner. He sat down and ate in great haste. When he had swallowed his last bite, he immediately took up the violin again.  
While he played, his eyes were closed. There was concentration on his face and peace too, the doctor noticed. He watched as the omega moved the bow over the instrument with grace and silent determination. It was quite a sight.

That night, John got into bed alone. Sherlock was going through the books and case files. There was a look on his face the alpha hadn't seen before. It was a strange mix of eagerness, annoyance and intellectual superiority. As he drifted off to sleep, he could hear the omega mutter under his breath.   
Words that sounded a lot like: 'boring, boring, the husband did it, idiots, boring, suicide, boooring'.   
It was then that the doctor really started to get curious about who and what exactly, the omega had been before.   
Over the last few weeks he had puzzled some things together, ofcourse. He knew Sherlock had great intelligence and a love for scientific books (although he had a habit of scorning authors for "obvious" mistakes). He also knew that usually science as a hobby, or a profession, didn't mean getting violently kidnapped or beaten up, or whatever had happened to the omega.  
Then there was the deduction. Sherlock had tried to explain it to him and had given him more, amazing examples of it. He had basically figured out John's life story by just looking at him.   
John knew Sherlock didn't like to answer questions, but he wanted to have answers. And he felt that his patience was growing thinner.  
He wanted to unravel at least a small part of the mystery that was Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New fluffy chapter yay!  
> I feel like Sherlock is starting to get very close to completely trusting John.  
> Next chapter will probably be full of reveals and more fluff :3
> 
> As always, thanks for all the kudos, the comments, and thank you for reading!  
> Hope you enjoyed it so far :)


	6. The Consulting Werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finally reveals the circumstances that lead to his current state.  
> John is right there to help the omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a bit longer than usual to write this chapter, due to some artschool deadlines.  
> I am happy about how it turned out :3  
> Hope the longer wait was worth it!
> 
> As always a big thank you to all of you who read my story!  
> Your comments and kudos and basically the knowledge of your existence, make me really happy :D

It was a quiet morning in the Baskerville mansion. Sherlock had gone to bed somewhere near dawn and was still heavily sleeping. John was awake, but unwilling to leave the warmth and comfort of the bed. He was trying to hide a smile. Sherlock had burrowed himself against the doctors chest. He could feel the deep, warm breaths of the younger man through his pyjamas. A slender arm was lazily draped over his side. Dark curls tickled his chin.  
John knew that Sherlock would never get this close to him when he was awake. It was only when he was asleep that the younger man showed his affections. And even now, John was wondering whether the younger man felt the same as he did, or if it was just his omega reacting to John's alpha side. He really hoped it was the former.   
Sherlock mumbled. The words were too slurred to understand, but his frown told John enough: it was a bad dream. John placed his hand on Sherlock's arm. The touch was enough to sooth him. The frown straightened and the mumbling stopped.  
Even with the doctor next to him, the young man sometimes had nightmares. There had been a few instances where he had woken up screaming. During those times, it had taken John at least an hour to calm him down and convince him that he was safe.  
Ofcourse, Sherlock wasn't the only one who had nightmares. John still had them, every once in a while. Ever since he slept next to Sherlock, though, they had become fewer in number. And when he did wake up, bathing in sweat and nearly screaming, Sherlock was there. He would look at him with knowing eyes. Then he would get him a glass of water and give him some space.   
John wasn't just helping Sherlock, Sherlock was helping John as well.

When the sun was finally strong enough to peep through the curtains, Sherlock woke up. John could see his face change. As soon as his eyes opened, his guard came up. He distanced himself from the doctor. Something was different about the younger man. There was something in his eyes, or perhaps in his face, that John couldn't quite grasp.   
Sherlock got out of bed with a haste the doctor hadn't seen before. He made his way through the room, mumbling words to himself. He seemed upset.  
John frowned and got out of bed as well. He put on his slippers and a jumper, following the movements of the omega with worried eyes.  
'Sherlock, are you alright,' he asked with a croaky voice.  
The younger man gave no answer. His movements had gotten more panicky. He moved around books and folders, knocked over piles of paper. All the while mumbling to himself.   
John was still trying to get through to him.   
'Sherlock!' he said, louder this time.   
But the young man just went on with whatever he was doing. Completely ignoring the doctor.  
His mumbling became more erratic. Then, he suddenly stopped walking. His hands were moving in front of his face, as if he was swatting away flies.  
John moved close to him and cleared his throat. No reaction.  
'Sherlock,' he said firmly, while he reached out and touched the young man on the shoulder.  
Sherlock startled. He stared at John with big eyes.   
John frowned and tightened his grip.  
'It's alright, you're safe,' he said reassuringly.  
The pale face broke for just a moment. All the confusion and panic poured out. John saw a very frightened young man. The look in the blue eyes tugged at his heartstrings.  
'Sherlock, you're safe,' he repeated, 'It was a dream. Just a bad dream.'  
The blue eyes searched his face. Slowly, the panic disappeared.   
He took a couple of shallow breaths and sniffed. The panic was replaced by embarrassment.   
'There is no need to be ashamed, we all get bad dreams,' John said.  
He let go of the shoulder and smiled.  
'Are you alright again?' he asked.  
Sherlock nodded.  
'You are wrong, though, John,' he said softly.  
With a sigh he dropped down on one of the couches.   
'It was not a dream, it was a memory.'  
John hesitated. He felt Sherlock was opening up. He was about to tell something important. And John did not want to spoil that by saying the wrong thing. So, instead of saying anything, he sat down opposite of Sherlock and simply waited until he was ready to talk.

'I make use of something I call a mind palace,' said the young man. His eyes were on the doctors face, but he was staring into nothingness, 'This means I store memories and information I find important and can access it whenever and wherever I want. All the information I do not find worthy, I delete. Otherwise the palace would be too full. The memory would get jammed.'  
His breathing became heavier.  
'I have...places for important memories, although I rarely visit them. Sentiment is something I'd rather do without. It blurs the vision.'  
'There were..memories..I thought I'd, well I thought I'd gotten rid of them. I was absolutely sure they were gone. Yet, when I woke up...I suddenly remembered them. They were there again, clear as day.'  
He frowned. Now he locked eyes with John. The doctor immediately understood, it hadn't been good memories that Sherlock was talking about.   
'Sherlock,' he said softly, 'you can't delete memories.'  
'I can,' Sherlock simply said, but there seemed to be some doubt in his voice.  
There was a heavy silence.  
The doctor was thinking of what to say next. He wasn't trained to deal with these kind of situations. Sherlock was very actively trying to repress traumatic memories. John understood, ofcourse he did. There were quite a few memories he himself would like to bury.   
'This morning when I woke up, your smell was in my nose,' Sherlock said softly, 'The smell of an alpha. And suddenly, I remembered them. I remembered their smell.'  
His voice broke and he stopped talking.  
John let out a heavy breath. This was more than Sherlock had ever told him about what had happened to him. Normally, he simply never spoke about it. Not even when John asked.  
For him to tell this, was to John a sign, he was really scared.  
'Who are they,' he asked with the most soft tone his voice could produce.  
The answer Sherlock gave was barely more than a whisper.  
'The ones who took me.'

Shortly after that, the whole story came pouring out of the young man.   
He told John he was a consulting detective (the only one in the world!), helping the police solve the crimes and murders they couldn't figure out. At first he was handed only cold cases, but he was so successful, they eventually consulted him on live cases as well.  
It was on one of those cases, he had encountered a gang of smugglers. The gang was in fact just a branch of a bigger gang, who had their main quarters in Eastern Europe. They smuggled omegas.   
Even though omegas were by now fully functioning members of society and the workforce, there were still those who liked them submissive and bound to the home. Or more specifically, bound to an alpha. Basically making the omegas slaves and in some cases, baby machines.  
Sherlock spat those words with a deep hate. John could see the anger burning in the blue eyes.  
'To aid the progress in the case and to find out who the members of this gang were, I decided I would get myself captured. I thought it would be simple to escape as soon as I had the information I needed, so I did not tell anyone what I was about to do.'.  
The doctor shook his head. In his head he could see the image of the omega, thinking himself superior to almost everyone else. He had probably been deep in, when he had realized his mistake.  
'I highly underestimated the intelligence of my opponents,' said Sherlock bitterly, 'I had seen in them nothing more than a gang of street thugs. In fact they were highly organized and, sadly, where able to imprison me. Without the help of my brother, I would never have escaped.'  
'Your brother?!', John exclaimed in surprise.  
'Yes, ofcourse. Mycroft is basically the British government, as he likes to repeat to me every so often. It took him some time to figure out where they were hiding me. By then I had spent six months as a prisoner of these smugglers. In fact, when I was rescued, they were about to ship me to Russia. If that had happened, I highly doubt my brother would ever have been able to find me.'.  
'To Russia,' John repeated softly. He could imagine what that meant. Everybody knew the stories about the omega laws in Russia. There, omegas were seen as creatures only slightly better than animals. They were forced to bond with alphas at a very young age. After the bonding most of the omegas lived a life of domestic slavery. Most of them died by the age of thirty.  
The doctor felt nauseous at the idea of Sherlock living such a life.   
Sherlock had such a brilliant mind and was so fiercely independent, that it would be almost completely impossible to break his mind.   
John's eyes got big. He looked at Sherlock. Their eyes locked.   
There was no need to speak. John had finally figured out why the young man was so traumatized. Sherlock saw that the doctor understood. He let out a shaky breath.

'The violence I could bare,' he said, his eyes on the ground again, 'The pain I could live with. They were careful not to do any remaining damage, as that would have lowered the price they could ask for me considerably. I knew that too. That knowledge gave me some hope.'  
'The...the unwanted intimacy,' an angry blush appeared on his face, 'Was a harder abuse to take. I repressed the memories of it. And it was one of those instances, I remembered when I woke up. Your smell must have triggered it. They were all alpha.'.  
John blinked. Tears of rage filled his eyes. A low growl was building up in his chest. He got up and paced around angrily. They had touched Sherlock! They had touched his Sherlock; against his will. Ofcourse he had suspected it, but now that Sherlock had spoken the words, the reality of it hit him.   
He could feel the blood thirst getting hold of him. He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down. This was not what Sherlock needed. He needed to be calm now.  
Sherlock was still staring at the ground. His shoulders were slumped. John let go of a few growls and shaky breaths. Then he moved closer to Sherlock. He kneeled down, just as he had done during their first encounters, and gently touched the omega on the knees.  
Sherlock looked up. He had tried to hide the tears in his eyes from John. The doctor wasn't quite sure whether they were tears of shame, anger or sadness. The look on Sherlock's face was difficult to read. He made himself as small and unthreatening as possible.  
'Sherlock,' he started, but the omega shook his head.  
John took hold of the omega's hands. Sherlock didn't pull away.   
The doctor tried to look him in the eye.   
'Sherlock,' he said again, 'Look at me.'  
This time the young man listened. Their eyes locked.  
'You don't need to be afraid anymore,' John said, 'I am here. You are safe. If anyone ever wants to touch you against your will again, they will have to go through me.'  
Sherlock swallowed. Then he lowered his head.   
Their faces were almost touching.   
John wanted nothing more than to kiss Sherlock. And he saw his desire mirrored in the young man's face. He felt, though, that this was the wrong moment.  
Sherlock lowered his head further, until it rested on John's shoulder.  
It was an awkward position and it couldn't be very comfortable, but he seemed content.  
They stayed like that for what seemed like a small eternity.  
John could feel Sherlock's hot breath against his neck. He could count his heartbeats. They were fast at first, but the longer their semi embrace lasted, the more the heartbeats slowed down. Until, at last, Sherlock had calmed down.

The two men got up slowly. As they walked to the door, John could feel something had changed in the last hour. There had been a shift in the atmosphere. It was as if something heavy had dropped down and broken into pieces. The air was lighter. And Sherlock seemed happier. Or at least relieved.  
John knew Mycroft would want him to ask for specific names or places. But he didn't want to do that right now.   
Right now, he wanted to get some tea and have breakfast. After that he wanted to take a very hot shower and a long walk on the moors. He really could use fresh air.   
He had a feeling that Sherlock might actually come with him this time.   
Fresh air and sunlight would do them both good.


	7. Wolves at Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has started to realize it will be very difficult, if not impossible to return to a life without Sherlock.  
> And Sherlock is awkwardly trying to express his feelings to the doctor.

A frosty wind was blowing over the moors, biting John in the face. Fast gliding clouds filled the sky. Every now and then, when a cluster of clouds had blown by, a painfully bright blue was visible. Winter was coming to the moors.  
John breathed in the cold air. For a moment he closed his eyes the savour all the scents it was carrying. There were hints of dead grass, rain and mud. The strongest scent though, was that of a certain dark haired omega.   
It took John several hours and a lot of stern looks, but Sherlock had finally agreed to go outside.  
Now he was pacing slowly behind the doctor. His normally pale cheeks had a rosy colour. Small clouds appeared around his mouth and nose as he breathed heavily. He was still very much out of shape.   
John leaned on his cane and waited for his companion.   
Their goal was a stone bench at the back of the mansion gardens. Even though John liked walking through the moors, he knew Sherlock wouldn't be able to do that yet. The end of the garden seemed like a more achievable goal for now.  
When Sherlock had caught up with John, they walked on in silence.  
John was still thinking about the things Sherlock had told him that morning. He knew he should call Mycroft. Ofcourse, that meant asking Sherlock for more detailed information. He didn't know if he had the strength to do that. Not today, at least.  
They reached the bench as the sun started setting. The clouds turned a bright pink and purple, with tones of a soft orange and red. The mansion stood on the horizon as a big, dark shape. Only the lights in the kitchen were on. Mrs. Hudson was no doubt working on their dinner.  
Even though she constantly kept reminding the two men that she was not a housekeeper, she still made most of their dinners and even did their laundry when she found it laying around.  
John smiled. Mrs. Hudson was one of those people you simply couldn't hate. Even Sherlock had taken a liking to her. Whenever John was too busy to entertain the omega, she would find him something to do. Somehow she had gotten him in to watching soaps with her. Sherlock had told John many times that these soaps were a joke, too simple to figure out, yet he kept watching them.

With a small grunt, John sat down on the bench. The cold concrete wasn't very welcoming, but he was grateful to give his aching leg some rest. He felt Sherlock sitting down beside him.   
The omega was wearing a large woollen coat that they had found in one of the cupboards. It complemented his tall, slender body perfectly and John was certain it had been tailored for Sherlock. However, the coat had been made for a less skinny version of the young man, so he seemed to be swimming in it.   
'John,' Sherlock said in a quiet voice.  
The doctor looked down from the sunset to Sherlock. There was a frown on the young man's face.  
'Yes,' the doctor answered slowly.   
'I- I would like to express my thanks,' Sherlock said after a while. His voice had an uncertain tone to it.  
Their eyes met and the younger man started blushing. His fingers were fidgeting with the buttons on his coat. 'You have been my companion for several weeks. I know my brother hired you and that you are probably being paid a ridiculous amount of money. Yet, you never treated me as a task that needed accomplishing or work that simply needed to be done.'  
He breathed a heavy sigh. His gaze was now focused on his hands.  
John waited a moment, in case Sherlock wanted to say more. When the young man remained silent, he cleared his throat. He put his own hands around the pale fidgeting ones.  
'Sherlock,' he felt a warm smile breaking on his face, 'there is no need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same thing in my place.'  
Sherlock shook his head. The frown on his face deepened. In the pink light of the setting sun he reminded John of troubled characters from Austen stories.  
'No, John, they wouldn't have,' he said. There was a bitter tone to his voice.   
John knew however, that the bitterness was not intended for him. He squeezed the pale hands.  
'I am glad it was me, who came to help you. Ofcourse, initially the price your brother would pay me was my main goal, I'm man enough to admit that. However, when I met you, that changed. From the moment I saw you opening your door, helping you became my purpose.'  
He paused for a moment. The blooming feeling had returned to his stomach. It vibrated through his body, sent waves of warmth and a very strong pull towards the omega next to him.   
This time however, there was an answer. He felt it instinctively. The pull was answered.   
Sherlock's hands had been cold just seconds ago, but were rapidly heating up. His skin seemed to be almost physically vibrating. John's alpha roared in his mind, growling at him to claim. And to mate.  
John swallowed. That was not what he wanted to be thinking about.  
He took his hands away from Sherlock's. The feeling started to subside immediately. He breathed shakily and cleared his throat.  
'Sherlock, I am glad you appreciate my companionship. The feeling is mutual.'  
He smiled when the omega looked at him with big eyes.   
Had Sherlock felt it too, he wondered. That pulling sensation. As if their bodies were trying to get closer to each other. John felt his wolf, pacing eagerly around the rims of his mind.   
All of that was pushed aside when Sherlock shivered.  
The sun was now down and the darkness was creeping up all around them. Without the warmth of the sun, the cold was rapidly winning terrain. The concrete bench might as well have been made out of ice or snow.  
John got up. His joints were stiff from the cold. One hand he held on his cane for balance, the other one he extended to Sherlock, to help him up. Sherlock grabbed the hand.   
They remained standing next to each other for a short moment. They could both feel the heat building up in their hands, rapid as a chemical fire.  
This time it was Sherlock who pulled away. Even in the dark, John could see the blush on his cheeks.  
They walked to the house in silence.

That night, a strong wind rattled the windows and howled through the chimneys. Mrs. Hudson had brought them extra blankets. She told them winter would be there soon and that meant cold nights.  
Now Sherlock lay in a heap of blankets and pillows, his dark hair barely visible above the layers.  
John was brushing his teeth. He stared at his reflection in the mirror.  
His wolf was very visible in his eyes tonight; he disliked that. The wolf made him look predatory. It scared people. John did not want to be feared. Especially not by Sherlock.  
When he was done, he turned out the lights and walked to the bed.   
He wondered if Sherlock was already asleep, but the young man had his eyes wide open, gliding over the pages of a big book. The title of which John couldn't even hope to pronounce correctly.  
As the doctor got into the bed, Sherlock put away his book. He turned out the light beside the bed, making the darkness complete.  
John got comfortable underneath the heavy layers of blankets and sighed. By now he had gotten so used to sleeping beside the omega that he didn't know if he could ever go back to sleeping alone.  
Sherlock moved closer to him, letting out a sigh of his own.   
'I will call Mycroft myself, tomorrow,' the young man said, voice muffled by his pillow.  
John frowned and turned. Sherlock was close to him, but had his back turned.  
'Why?,' said John slowly.  
'He wants information, I know my brother. I will tell him all I can.'  
'But I can tell him,' John said softly.  
Sherlock shook his head.   
'You can, but you won't. I will tell him myself. After all these weeks, I am certain that I can handle a conversation with my own brother.'  
'Ofcourse, Sherlock, that's not what I meant.'  
'I know,' Sherlock simply answered.  
There was a short silence. John's thoughts were racing through his mind. Were there things Sherlock could not tell him? He shivered at the thought of the horrors the man must have gone through. It was only logical that he did not want John to know all of them.   
When Sherlock spoke again, he knew he had been right.  
'It is not because I do not trust you, John,' the man spoke, his voice shaky, 'It is simply that there are things I feel I cannot tell you. You would look at me differently if I did. Mycroft has many flaws, his inability to stay away from the more fatty foods being the least, but he does not do sentiment. He is clinical in his approach to everything.'  
John thought about the anger the older Holmes had expressed in his last phone call. He felt that Sherlock might not know his brother as well as he thought he did.  
'I can tell him. Not you.'  
John sighed. He nodded, even though Sherlock couldn't see it.  
'Ofcourse,' he said, 'if you want to call your brother yourself I will not stop you. It is your choice. I am sure he will be glad to hear you are well enough to speak to him.'.  
Sherlock chuckled. John blinked. This had been the first time he had heard that.  
'Mycroft is rarely glad about anything,' he said with a grin,' If I'm well enough to call him, it means that soon, I will be well enough to be a nuisance again.'  
He turned around and looked up at John.  
'You are frowning,' he stated with a frown of his own.  
John looked down, trying to hide the frown with a smile. It wasn't very effective. Sherlock could read him like a book. The blue eyes studied his face worriedly.   
'Yes, I am,' he sighed eventually.  
'Did my words anger or worry you?' Sherlock asked uncertainly.  
'No, they did not. You did not make me angry, or worried.'  
John moved himself closer to Sherlock. The omega pushed his head under the alphas chin. Instinctively John put his arms around the young man's slender body. He could still count the ribs.  
'It's just that, your progress is going so fast,' John mumbled,' And I am truly happy with that. Yet, when you said that you would call your brother yourself, I started thinking about the fact that pretty soon there'll be no more need for a doctor.'  
Sherlock remained silent. John could almost hear the gears turning in that mighty brain.   
'You are afraid Mycroft will send you away?' he said after a while.  
John nodded, although he was ashamed to admit it.   
'My task was to heal you. That's what Mycroft is paying me for. In one of our conversations, he mentioned it was not my task to make small talk, but to get you to give the needed information. He will have that information tomorrow. That means, I become obsolete.'  
'Mycroft is clinical and despises sentiment, he is also an overweight baboon. You will not be obsolete, doctor Watson, I'll see to that.'  
John smiled. The roles were almost reversed now. Sherlock was trying to sooth him, taking away his insecurities. He was protecting him. The wolf howled at the edge of his mind. This is what mates do, it growled at him, so mate him and claim him. Make him ours!

While John fought with his wolf for the control of his body, Sherlock drifted off to sleep.   
His breaths were deep and hot against John's neck. He closed his eyes and listened. Their hearts were beating as one, they had the same slow rhythm.   
Making sure Sherlock slept, he bowed his head and planted a soft kiss on the man's forehead.  
His lips tingled when he pulled them back. A shaky sigh escaped his body.  
He wanted to do so much more, but he restrained himself. He would let Sherlock set the pace. Even if that meant fighting his wolf every step along the way.  
He would not claim him, until he was absolutely certain, Sherlock wanted him to.   
John yawned and closed his eyes.  
Sherlock's scent was in his nose when he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly my fluffiest chapter yet!  
> Christmas might have had something to do with that...
> 
> Once again thanks to all my readers!  
> Even though Christmas is almost over, I hope you had a merry one!


	8. The Kiss of a Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys discuss their feelings, finally.  
> Mycroft is a smug little shit, as always.

Cold light pierced through gaps in the curtains when John woke up. The air was icy as it touched his face. Every few seconds though, a warm breath blew across his cheeks and lips. When he opened his eyes he discovered Sherlock's face just inches from his own.  
It was a rarity to see the young man sleeping in. Normally he was up before or around dawn. He told John he had experiments going on, very important things. Sometimes he would play his violin in the mornings. The melancholy notes of the instrument slowly playing the doctor awake. John liked that the best.  
He figured that Sherlock must have been tired from the walk in the garden.  
John traced the young man's face with his eyes. By now he knew every detail. All the tiny scars, the hairs of the thick, cocky eyebrows, the long eyelashes. He knew every curve and dip on that pale face. Right now it was completely relaxed.   
Sherlock's mouth was opened slightly. John could see the white teeth glimmering behind the pink lips.  
He sighed and tried not to linger on the lips too long. His dreams had already been filled with them. That, and the more coarse thoughts his wolf was feeding him.  
When John moved, Sherlock's eyes flicked open. The doctor had noticed that Sherlock always woke up with a scared look in his eyes. It disappeared after a while, usually when he saw John's face or the familiar surroundings of their bedroom. Yet it was there every morning and after every nap.  
The man moved his slender body out of John's arms and stretched elaborately. Ending with a yawn that spread his mouth wide open, revealing his not so human canines.  
Then he got out of bed. John followed his example, although he needed a bit more time to reach the door. Sherlock waited patiently and opened the door for him.  
Together they made their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Sherlock waited until noon before he called his brother.  
John left him to it, knowing that not all the information told, would be for his ears. He went downstairs to have tea and maybe a talk with Mrs. Hudson.  
The landlady, however, was out for groceries, so the doctor had to kill the time on his own. He read the paper, or rather, tried to read the paper. His whole mind was focused on Sherlock. If his human ears could have moved around to catch sounds, they would have.  
If he tried, he could hear Sherlock's bare feet on the wooden floor, two stories up. His voice was too far away to hear properly. John cursed at himself for trying to listen in on a private conversation. His alpha side was trying to convince him that the omega should not keep any secrets from him. That he should know it all, so he could protect him against it.  
John the human, using his common sense, knew that Sherlock had every right to keep certain things secret, if he wanted to. That did not mean, though, that John would not be curious.

Eventually, after what seemed to John an eternity, Sherlock came downstairs.  
When he entered the door he somehow seemed smaller than he had been an hour before. John frowned. He studied the hunched shoulders, the arms tightly wrapped around each other and the face that was at least three shades whiter than it should be.  
Together they walked to their bedroom. Mrs. Hudson had just come back from her trip to the stores and Sherlock clearly wanted to have a private talk.  
John watched as Sherlock dropped on one of the couches, without his normal dramatic flair.  
Whatever he had told or heard during the conversation with his brother, had upset him.  
John would bet on the former, though he didn't think it beyond Mycroft Holmes to be capable of the latter.   
He took a deep breath and walked to the other couch.  
When he sat down, Sherlock turned his back to him, curling up on himself.  
'Do you want to talk,' John said softly.  
The only reply was a weak shaking of the head.  
John nodded and sighed.   
'Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit,' he said after a while.  
The young man shook his head almost violently.  
'Stay, please,' said a whisper soft voice.  
It reminded John of that first night Sherlock had asked him to stay. His wolf growled, clearly feeling the confused emotions of the omega.  
He came closer and put one of his hands on Sherlock's back. The body shocked, but stayed put.  
Now the doctor could feel the elevated heart rate. Sherlock's heart was beating as fast as that of a rabbit being chased by a fox.  
Slowly John rubbed the back. He massaged the neck and could feel the tension dissolve after a while.   
He would never claim that he had a 'magic touch', as some people called it. It was simply the reaction of an omega, gently touched by an alpha. Just chemicals and hormones.  
Eventually Sherlock calmed down and was able to sit up again.  
His eyes frantically searched for John's.   
'Did Mycroft say something?' asked John, hardly trying to hide his hostile tone.  
Sherlock sighed deeply.  
'No, not in the sense that you are fearing,' the deep voice was shaky, 'We had our brotherly chat, so to speak. I told him everything I could remember. He was as warm and loving as always.'  
There was a sharp tone John hadn't heard before. Once again he wondered what kind of relationship the two brothers had. Clearly, Mycroft did care for Sherlock. He had however a very strange way of showing it.  
'So, he did not threat to fire me? Or to send me away? Job done and everything,' said the doctor.  
'No, he did no such thing,' Sherlock answered flatly, 'Mycroft made it clear that my healing was not finished yet and that I would thus need you here. You can probably suspect a call from him again soon. I think he intends to use you to spy on me.'  
'To spy on you?!' John repeated a bit louder than he intended.  
'Yes, that is his usual way. Always the control freak, he wants to know where I am, who I am with, even what I eat, when I eat it. When we were younger he would bribe other kids to play with me or keep an eye on me for him. Since then he has always tried to personally handpick my friends.'  
Sherlock looked at the doctor with a piercing look.  
'He has probably picked you for more than one reason, John. I think he hopes you have some kind of positive influence on me. Or...'  
'Or what?' John asked.  
Sherlock did not answer. He suddenly seemed flustered. The blush on his cheek, however, was also one of anger. He shook his head and got up from the couch.  
'I will call him again and tell him I'm on to him.'  
'On to him about what?!' John cried out.  
Sherlock was already out of the door, however, and did not hear him.

John followed Sherlock. Or rather, his alpha followed Sherlock.  
He had tried to fight it, but in the end, he had given up. He had to admit that he too, wanted to know what Sherlock was talking about.  
It didn't take him long to locate the omega.  
His voiced echoed through several corridors, dark with anger.  
John could now also hear the voice on the other end of the line.  
'Now, now, brother, do try and calm yourself down. My office is not entirely soundproof you know. Do think of how happy mother would be to hear of the news!'.  
'How happy mother would be?!' Sherlock raged,' You know very well I do not care about that! You intended for this to happen, Mycroft! You set us both up in one of your clever little traps!'  
'A trap, brother? I do not know if I would call it that. Ofcourse I would not know, but to my understanding very few actually see their bonding as a trap.'  
John blinked. He felt his mouth and throat getting dry.  
A deep rage came up from the pits of his stomach, but controlled it for now.  
The older Holmes had devised this whole set up! He had made it so that John and Sherlock had to eventually bond. Everybody knew the kind of pull alphas and omegas had on each other.  
If the two spend enough time together, their hormones would eventually finish the job, so to speak.  
At the end of the corridor, Sherlock raged on.  
'All of this, to make sure I will not repeat my mistake,' he said in a very low, and very dangerous voice, 'A mistake you know full well, I would never want to repeat!'.  
'It is not just about this mistake, brother,' answered the other Holmes calmly, 'It is about all of them. You need someone to watch over you, clearly, and I cannot be there all the time.'  
'You do not need to be!,' Sherlock growled, 'I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.'  
'As you have so expertly proven,' was the comeback.  
Sherlock let out a frustrated snarl.  
'I do not need some alpha nanny to loom over me! You do not get to decide that for me. Not ever.'  
'The dear doctor would surely not like it when you call him that, brother. Like it or not, but you need someone by your side. This is with your best interest in mind.'  
Shortly after that, the conversation ended.   
Sherlock growled and threw the phone against something that sounded like a wall.  
Pieces of plastic and glass hit the floor as the screen of the phone shattered.  
John suddenly realized he did not want Sherlock to find him there. This conversation had been a very private, albeit very loud, one. The doctor almost wished he hadn't heard it.  
As quickly and silently as he could, he sneaked back to their bedroom.  
Behind him the angry snarls and growls continued as Sherlock temporarily lost control over his wolf. More things shattered, John guessed it were vases and possible decorative plates.

It was around dinner time when Sherlock made an appearance again.  
John could see he was still very much upset, but he thought it wise not to mention that.  
The two men ate their dinner in silence. It wasn't a comfortable silence like the ones they usually shared. Every now and then Sherlock would look up to John, try to say something, but then look back to his plate again.  
When they returned to their room, the silence was so thick, it almost put physical pressure on John.   
He wanted very much to talk about the things he had heard that afternoon. They weighed heavy on his mind. However, he did not want Sherlock to know that he had spied on him.  
Sherlock dropped down on his favourite couch. He stared up at the ceiling, his hands in a sort of praying gesture against his lips.  
John sat down on the other couch and thought of what to say.  
'I - I apologize for my behaviour earlier this day,' Sherlock stammered softly while looking at John.   
'Apology accepted,' answered John. He managed a small smile.  
The silence returned after that.  
Eventually it was John who started the conversation.  
'Sherlock,' he said shakily, 'I think we should talk.'  
The omega looked at him with wary eyes.  
John sighed. He nervously rubbed his hands together.  
'I think it would be foolish to deny that we are developing quite a close relationship,' he stuttered.  
Sherlock frowned at him. Then he raised his eyebrows. His eyes unreadable.   
'Whatever the future may hold for either of us,' the doctor continued, 'I want you to know, that I would never force you to do anything you would not want to do. Ever.'  
Sherlock stayed silent for a few moments.  
Then he said, in a matter of fact kind of way: 'You heard the conversation I had with my brother.'  
John could feel his face redden. There was no use in denying.  
He bowed his head and nodded.  
'Yes, yes, I apologise for that. I did not mean to.'  
To his surprise there was a grin on Sherlock's face.  
'If you did not mean to, you wouldn't have done it. We both know that, John.'  
Then he became serious again.  
'I regret many of the things I said. They were said in anger, possibly rage and directed towards my brother, not you. Now I see that I've upset you. Or possibly it were the words of my brother that did that,' he added slowly, reading into John like someone else would do with a book.  
'That is, quite possibly, also the reason why you chose tonight to talk about our 'relationship', concluded the young man.  
John sighed. He sometimes missed having conversations with people who did not immediately knew all his motives and thoughts. Once again he saw no use in denying it.  
'Yes, again, Sherlock,' he muttered.  
'Do you remember the first time you touched me?' Sherlock asked after a while.  
John nodded. Ofcourse he remembered that.  
'You were the first person I allowed that close to me, after my capture and escape. Even my own brother couldn't touch me, although you might now understand why,' Sherlock looked at him with a slight grin, 'When you put your hand on my arm, I felt something that could best be described as an electrical shock. It didn't hurt. It was a kind of pleasant sensation. After that I knew I did not ever need to be afraid of you.'  
'I did not feel anything like that,' John replied.  
Sherlock shook his head.  
'No, not in that moment, perhaps. You were in your role as doctor and I was just a patient you needed to take care of. Even I only understood the full meaning of it, after we both turned during the full moon. It was then that I knew.'  
'Knew what?,' John asked carefully. The answer he was hoping for, was impatiently waiting in his eyes. Sherlock sighed. He seemed flustered. Normally he found it difficult to speak so openly about his feelings.   
'After that full moon, I knew, instinctively, that I had found a possible bondmate.'

Even though it had been the answer John had been waiting for, he gasped.  
Sherlock stared at him with big, worried eyes. He seemed out of breath. John wondered if the young man had ever told this to anyone else. He couldn't imagine it.  
The doctor got up and sat down next to the omega. He took the pale hands in his own and squeezed reassuringly.  
'Ever since that night, my wolf has refused to shut up,' John said with a grin.  
Sherlock answered with a chuckle. 'I bet.'  
'I meant what I said, Sherlock. I will not ever force you to do anything,' he made sure he looked into the omega's eyes, so he would know the other man had gotten the message, 'Not ever. If you do not wish to ever bond, I wouldn't lay a finger on you. Your are entirely free to make your own choices. I would not wish to be your alpha nanny.'  
Sherlock chuckled again at those words.  
Then he frowned and let his hands escape John's grasp.  
'It is not that I haven't thought about, with the hormones in my body it's only natural. Yet, I do not wish to be tricked into it. Mycroft tricked me. He tricked us. That is what I despise.'  
'You have every right to be angry with your brother. What he did was wrong,' John agreed, 'I am angry about that. As you said, he tricked me as well.  
'However, think about it this way: without the meddling hand of your brother, we might never have met at all. I would've still been in my London clinic, bored to death and you would've been nursed by another doctor. Our lives would have been quite different.'  
Sherlock's nose wrinkled. John saw, though, that he agreed with him.  
'I feel that, when we do decide to become bondmates,' Sherlock said,' We will have done exactly what he wanted us to do. And I hate it when he gets his way.'

John smiled. He placed his hand on Sherlock's cheek.   
The blue eyes looked up at him. There was shock in them, but also something else. Something that was hard for John to read, but could loosely be translated to 'go on'.  
Slowly, inch by inch, their faces came closer to each other.  
Then, before John realized it, Sherlock's lips were on his.  
It wasn't a long kiss. It was gentle and very careful.  
When Sherlock moved back with a shaky breath, John could feel his lips tingle.   
A warm feeling washed over him as he looked at the omega. The pulling feeling was back, stronger this time. This time he knew Sherlock could feel it to.  
They stared at each other, both out of breath and shocked.  
Sherlock cursed huskily.   
'Now Mycroft will surely get his way.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a very happy new year to all my readers!  
> I hope you will all have a wonderful 2016 :D
> 
> Thank you all for being so supportive and awesome :3
> 
> This chapter took a bit more work. I think I rewrote it four or five times before I was finally happy with it.  
> Hope you all like it!


	9. Wolves in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John accept the fact that they are bondmates.  
> They take the relationship to the next level, with a little bite.

At the present moment, the mind of John Watson was in enough hormonal turmoil to remind him of his early teenage years. He was still staring into Sherlock's shocked blue eyes. And even though the doctor was not a deductive genius, he could tell immediately that Sherlock's mind mirrored his.  
The pale cheeks were flustered. John's hand was still against one of them and he could feel the heat rising.  
His wolf growled triumphantly at the edge of his mind. The animal was very eager to take the next step. John, however, was not. He could see that Sherlock was very nervous.  
'Are you alright?' he asked softly.  
Sherlock blinked a few times and cleared his throat.  
'Yes,' he answered uncertainly, 'I think I am.'  
'You think you are?' repeated the doctor with a frown.  
Sherlock nodded. A shaky breath escaped his mouth.  
He leaned into John's hand. It was more a subconscious move than a premeditated one.   
John smiled and pulled the young man in his arms. He planted a kiss on the dark curls.  
Sherlock sighed into his sweater and his body relaxed.  
'As with your recovery, we will take this one step at the time,' said the doctor.  
Sherlock nodded against his chin, relieved. 

Not much changed in their daily routine after that. They slept in the same bed, as they had done for weeks and ate their dinners together. During the day, they would mostly stay out of each other's way. Sherlock played his violin, for which he had now started to compose melodies, or he would disappear to one of his 'laboratories', where he would conduct experiments.  
John updated his computer logs and read the paper or took walks in the garden.   
Since the start, he had kept a detailed log on Sherlock's recovery. They seemed to have to worst behind them now. Ofcourse Sherlock had barely left the mansion and the doctor had no idea how he would react to strangers, but he trusted John and Mrs. Hudson. John was careful not to mention the fact that he had kissed his patient.  
Sherlock was more affectionate than he had been before. He would cuddle up to John at night and would sometimes stay with him for hours to silently watch him read a paper or type away on his laptop.  
There were mornings when Sherlock would make the doctor coffee. John was always careful to take a few sips and smile, before he threw the concoction through the sink.  
Though very obviously a genius, Sherlock had no idea how to make coffee, or food for that matter.

Besides his affections, Sherlock gave other little signs that things were changing. These particular signs were not visible to the random observer, but John could spot them.  
Sherlock's scent was slowly changing. It had always been subtle and barely there, now it was becoming heavy and musky. Leaving traces in every room Sherlock made an appearance in.   
John's wolf got extremely agitated when the scent would hit his nose.   
Very soon it became clear to the doctor, that Sherlock's omega was taunting his alpha. It wanted him to come out. To show itself. And to start claiming the omega.  
Sherlock the human was probably not aware of this fact, and if he was, he did a good job of hiding it.   
John was worried about this. He feared that he would be unable to control his wolf during the next full moon. He did not want them to do things they would regret later.

Since their first kiss, Sherlock had not spoken about the subject of their relationship. When John tried to bring it up, he would get a blank face and usually no response.   
He was fully aware that Sherlock probably needed time to let things fall into place. However, the full moon was getting dangerously close and he wanted to talk about it before he turned into a hormonally frustrated alpha wolf.  
It was the day before the full moon, that Sherlock broke his silence.  
He was wide awake when John woke up, but hadn't left the bed yet. Two big blue eyes were watching John as he opened his eyes and stretched.  
He frowned at Sherlock.   
'Good morning,' he croaked.  
'Good morning, John,' Sherlock answered.  
There was a hitch in the deep voice that sparked John's attention.  
He studied Sherlock's face. The brow was furrowed and the cheeks were very clearly flustered.  
'Are you alright?' he said as he looked into the piercing eyes.  
Sherlock nodded. The younger man swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again rapidly. He averted his eyes and deepened his frown.  
'Is there something you want to tell me?' the doctor asked, with a gentle smile.  
'Yes,' answered Sherlock, a nervous tone to his voice.  
'Is it about the full moon?' the doctor guessed, as that was on his mind.  
'Not exactly,' replied Sherlock. He looked at John again.  
They remained silent for a moment, as John was waiting for Sherlock to muster up the courage to speak. When he finally did, a waterfall of words came spilling out.  
'John, over the past couple of days, I have been studying the ceremonies around the bonding. Ofcourse, most of it is sentimental and completely overrated, not to mention added for the sole purpose of gaining as much in dowries as possible. Personally I believe most of the ceremonies are completely outdated and should probably be replaced, or better: forgotten.'  
'However, I did come across some very interesting parts. Ever since I was young, I knew I was an omega. Since I never saw the need of finding a bondmate, I never studied the processes on how to accomplish a successful bonding. But now that I have, I know that there are several steps that must be taken. And I feel that at least one of those, cannot wait until after the full moon.'  
He finished the last sentence breathlessly and stared at John, trying to figure out his response.  
John tried not to chuckle. Ofcourse Sherlock would try to study the whole process.   
During his medical study, he had ofcourse learned some parts of the bonding. When two individuals decided to participate in a bonding, their chemicals and hormones would change. Judging by Sherlock's scent, that had already happened.   
Whether alpha, beta or omega, the werewolf body would ready itself for a bonding. The signs were usually less obvious in betas, but they were always there. During a warm afternoon in spring, you could usually smell the couples ready for bonding from miles away.  
Apart from the physical processes however, John had very little knowledge of the actual bonding.  
He knew that there was biting involved. And usually some sexual activities as well.   
He blushed at that thought, while his wolf howled enthusiastically. 

Sherlock cleared his throat and John woke up from his daydreams.  
'I do not know if you are aware of it, John, but there seems to be some biting involved,' said the young man. He did not seem particularly happy with that thought.  
'Yes, there is biting involved,' answered the doctor with a frown, 'The bites are used to claim the mate. The scar will forever be there to show others that the mates are taken.'  
'That does seem to be the purpose, yes,' said Sherlock softly, 'And it appears that after the bite, the prospective mates will form some kind of mental bond as well. Though scientist have not yet been able to completely proof this particular bond, mates have reported to be able to 'feel' their other halves from miles away. Some of them went so far as to say they were basically able to read their mates thoughts and feelings.'  
John smiled.   
'Are you afraid I will read all your thoughts?' he said with a chuckle.  
Sherlock gave a small smile in return.  
'No, I am not,' he said, 'As I do not truly believe that last part. And even if I did, I trust you, John. I know you would not wander into the depths of my mind to read my secrets.'  
'You are right, I would not,' answered John seriously.  
'I do have request,' Sherlock said with a shaky voice.  
'I'm listening.'  
'I would rather do the biting when we are both in human form.'  
John did not ask why He knew Sherlock wanted to control this as much as possible. In their wolf form, there would be very little control. It was a simple request. And the answer was also a simple one.  
'Ofcourse,' John said with a smile, 'If that's what you want, that is what we'll do.'  
Sherlock nodded.   
'Could we do it now?' he asked in a small, but eager voice.  
John chuckled. He planted a kiss on the long nose.  
'Yes, yes we can.'  
He had severely underestimated Sherlock's eagerness to bond. He had expected Sherlock to be much more reluctant. Yet, the younger man was probably equally high on hormones as the doctor.  
John watched as Sherlock pushed the blankets off. A little reluctantly the tall man undid the buttons on his pyjamas. Suddenly John realized that it had been almost two months ago that he had seen the other man even close to being naked.  
He swallowed at that thought. His wolf growled, but he fought it back to the edge of his mind.   
With a deep breath, he pushed himself up as well.   
Normally, he wasn't a shy man. You couldn't afford to be in the army, when you shared a shower and toilets with at least a dozen other men. Now, however, he felt very self conscious.  
As the two pyjama shirts fell to the ground, the two men looked at each other.  
John could feel the blue eyes studying his torso. He blushed.  
Sherlock got closer. John hissed as cold fingers touched his skin.  
'Two, no, three entry wounds,' the young man whispered, 'A bomb?'.  
John nodded. 'It took hours of surgery to patch me up again.'  
Sherlock moved back. In the morning light, he looked paler than ever.  
John could see multiple scars, most of which would never disappear. He frowned at that.   
'Can I come closer?' he asked.  
Sherlock nodded.  
John scooted over and carefully placed one of his hands on the pale torso.  
Sherlock inhaled sharply, but remained calm.   
'You are beautiful,' John whispered under his breath.  
The other man blushed.  
With his hand still on Sherlock's chest, John moved in for a kiss.  
Their lips met and it was as if a shock went through them.  
Immediately they both moved back.  
John blinked. His heart was beating fast.   
In his mind only one thought was focused. Maybe more a desire than a thought.   
He wanted to sink his teeth into that porcelain skin and leave a permanent mark.  
When he looked at Sherlock, he saw his desire mirrored in the blue eyes.  
Their instincts were taking over.   
John shook his head violently, getting a worried look from Sherlock.  
His mind cleared slightly and he was able to form words again.  
'Before we do this,' he panted, 'I need to ask you if you truly want this. And I do not mean whether your wolf wants it: I mean the human you.'  
Sherlock stayed motionless. A thoughtful look appeared on his face.  
After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded.  
'Yes, I want this,' he said, his voice husky and deep.  
'Alright,' said John, his own voice turning into a growl.

The two men could feel their instincts taking control again. Unknowingly they were about to take part in a ceremony that had been repeated through the ages. Their minds fogged with hormones and desire, that was the absolute last thought in their minds.  
John moved closer to Sherlock again. He placed his hands on the slender shoulders. His hold was not strong enough to threaten, but it did show that he was now taking control.  
Sherlock breathed heavily. His heart beating so fast John could hear it.  
Unable to speak, he nudged at Sherlock to move his head to the side.   
The omega followed his order and moved his head. He bared his neck to show his submission.  
John touched the cold skin on the shoulder. He wanted his bite to be visible, but not obvious.   
Eventually he decided on the crevasse of the neck. That way, the bite would be visible when Sherlock wore his shirts with the upper buttons open. If he however wanted to hide the bite, he would be able to do that.   
Happy with his decision he bared his teeth.  
Sherlock braced for the bite, his body tense under the alpha's touch.  
A small gasp escaped his mouth when John sank his teeth into the pale skin.  
The smell and taste of iron was all John could experience for a moment. For a second, bloodlust overcame him and he felt the urge to bite deeper.   
Then he felt Sherlock's shaky breaths. The omega was in pain.   
His wolf snarled and retreated willingly to the borders of John's mind. It did not want to hurt Sherlock. Hastily, John stopped biting and moved back.  
The taste of blood was in his mouth and he could feel some of the warm liquid on his lips.  
'Sorry,' he uttered at the sight of what he had done.  
Sherlock looked down at the wound. When he touched it, he hissed. His fingers came away red with blood. He looked at John with a frown.  
'I expected it to hurt more,' he said bravely, hardly convincing John.  
The doctor smiled and made a mental note to clean that wound later.  
'Your turn,' John said nervously.  
Sherlock nodded and came closer.  
The younger man studied John's whole torso, first with his eyes, then with his fingers.  
He probably wanted to find the perfect spot.  
Then, without much of a warming, he sank his teeth into John's shoulder.   
John swallowed down a scream and bit on his lip. If anything, it was more painful than he had expected.   
A small growl escaped Sherlock's throat. He bit down a bit harder, before he let go.  
When he moved back, he examined the bite mark and seemed very pleased with himself.  
John blinked the tears of pain from his eyes and looked at the younger man.  
There were smears of blood on his chin and lips and his wolf was very visible in his eyes. It took him several minutes to get his self control back.  
This gave John some time to inspect his own wound.  
He chuckled. Sherlock had chosen almost the exact same spot as he had. In the crevasse of his neck. John would be perfectly able to hide the bite, but if he wished he could bare it for all the world to see. With a small shock he realized, he would prefer the latter.

A couple of hours later, they were having brunch.  
Mrs. Hudson was chatting away at them, but it was highly improbable that either of the two men was really listening. If the woman had sensed a change in the air, she was hiding it very well.  
John had expertly disinfected and bandaged their bites. He already felt bad enough for having to hurt Sherlock like that, he did not want the wound the get infected.  
His hormones were at an all time high. At the borders of his mind, his wolf was pacing, ready to take control as soon as the first moonlight hit the sky.  
John knew what would happen that night. Or rather, he knew the mechanics of it.  
After a bite, there was mating. He swallowed.   
His eyes searched for Sherlock, who was staring blankly at a steaming cup of tea.  
The omega was nervous. The tension was visible from across the table.   
In another room, a telephone rang.  
Mrs. Hudson excused herself and got up to answer the phone.  
They could hear her friendly voice happily chatting and laughing even rooms away.  
'I think it would be better if we went outside tonight,' Sherlock said softly.  
It was the first time he had spoken since John had bandaged his bite mark.  
'That would probably be wise,' answered John. His voice sounded less confident than he wanted.  
He immediately started making a checklist on what they would need to bring with them.   
Winter had officially begun and it was cold on the moors. They would need to bring blankets and spare clothes for after the turning.   
'We could stay in separate rooms,' the doctor uttered uncertainly.  
Immediately two blue eyes pierced his own with a fierce glance.  
'No,' answered Sherlock.  
'Just in case you- well, just in case,' stammered the doctor.  
'I am not doubting my decision, John,' answered Sherlock, with the same fierceness, 'This is what I want. Besides, even if we decided to turn in different rooms, I am quite certain our wolves would break down doors and walls to get to each other at this point.'  
John chuckled nervously. There was truth in that.  
'I just want you to know that you don't have to do this, if you don't want to,' he said.  
Sherlock smiled.  
'I appreciate that, John,' he said, 'But I am very certain of my decision.'  
Their conversation was cut short by the reappearance of Mrs. Hudson.  
She smiled brightly when she entered the room and told them it had been a niece calling her, or possibly a sister, John had difficulty following her words.  
He thought about that night. Their lives would change forever. He probably should have thought it through, before actually doing it. Before he'd met Sherlock, he had never believed in bondmates. It had always seemed as something straight out of a cheap novel. Now here he was, with a fresh bite mark on his shoulder and deep desire to constantly kiss the man opposite of him.  
His wolf growled at his doubts. He knew the animal was right, he could feel in his gut that it was. Somehow he felt that he would not regret this decision either.  
A life without Sherlock seemed an impossible option to him now.   
He breathed deeply to calm himself down.   
No more doubts. This was how it was supposed to be.  
He should be happy. Many people were never in a position to meet their true bondmate.  
Yet in a stroke of luck, he, a crippled war veteran, had found his.   
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Mrs. Hudson leaving the room again.  
Suddenly Sherlock was very close to him. The omega pressed a kiss against his lips and whispered something in his ear. Then, with a last stroke of his cool fingers, he left the room too.   
John blinked. He could almost not believe what had been whispered to him.  
It seemed like a dream. The words had sent a shiver down his spine.  
And with no one else but his empty mug to hear him, he gave his answer.  
'I love you too.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!  
> This took me some time to write!  
> I wanted it to continue the slow build I had set up in the previous chapter...  
> Next chapter will more than probably have some adult content. ;)
> 
> Also, as the observant reader might have noticed, next chapter will be the last one in this story.  
> I feel like this fic is reaching its end, and I do not want to fuck it up by dragging it out.  
> However, I really like werewolf Sherlock & Watson, so I am thinking about making this into a series.   
> I am very certain that there is more to tell about these two :)
> 
> As always, I want to thank my readers! :3  
> You guys are awesome and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Howling at the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock tie the knot.  
> Mycroft spoils the mood, as only he can.
> 
> The game is on ;)

 

 

'We could still change our minds,' John spoke, teeth chattering.

They were walking through the gardens. The sun was setting and all around them the shadows were creeping up. The soles of their shoes crunched the small layer of ice on the garden path.

Sherlock turned to look at the doctor. His eyes were fierce.

'No, John, we cannot.'

John nodded and sniffed. He could feel his fists clench with anxiety.

'Alright. I just- I do not want you to regret this. After-, well after tonight, going back will be nearly impossible.'

He frowned at the taller man, trying to show his concern. His wolf snarled at him for even trying to talk the omega out of it. The animal was pacing the fringes of his mind, abiding it's time.

Sherlock stared at the doctor for a while. His eyes nearly glowed in the light of the setting sun.

There was confusion in his deep frown.

'Would you want to go back?' he asked slowly, meticulously reading John's reaction.

John shook his head violently.

'No, Sherlock! I would not,' he answered reassuringly, 'However, if you would want to-'

He did not get the chance to finish the sentence. Sherlock bowed down and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Even that small touch was enough to create a shockwave of sensations for the doctor.

The cold, slightly chapped lips of the younger man lingered for a short moment, before he straightened himself. John suppressed a whimper when Sherlock's touch left him.

It took him a while to find his voice back. He cleared his throat.

'All I want to say is, you are young, Sherlock, there might be others out there. I'm older, and physically speaking not in the best of conditions,' he tightened the grip on his cane, 'You might get tired of me, after a while.'

He did not dare look Sherlock in the eye. These were the words that he had wanted to say since the first time they had kissed. Ofcourse, he had spoken them too late. He had not warned the young man as much as he should have done.

To his surprise, Sherlock chuckled.

He stopped walking and looked up.

'Is it _that_ funny,' he asked, with a hurt tone in his voice.

'No,' Sherlock simply answered, 'It is not.'

John could feel the man staring at him. Biting his lip, he looked at his feet.

'John, I will never get tired of you,' Sherlock said eventually, 'That I swear. And as for age, you need not worry. Statistically speaking, you have at least thirty years ahead of you. You are not _that_ old yet.'

 

Eventually the two men reached their goal, a greenhouse at the edge of the garden.

Mrs. Hudson had told them about it that afternoon. Ofcourse, she had known what they were up to. The hormones were impossible to miss. Her eyes had sparkled with genuine joy.

Sherlock opened the door and let John enter first. Then he closed and locked the door with the small key the landlady had given him. They had decided it would be better for their wolves to be in there. It was more than likely that the wolves would be highly territorial. Neither of them wanted to harm any innocent tourist, out for a nightly stroll on the moors.

John rubbed his hands together, in an effort to warm them. The greenhouse was bigger than he had expected. All kinds of exotic plants grew around them, some hanging from the ceiling. The scent of moist earth and blooming flowers hung heavy in the air.

It was comparatively warm in the greenhouse. John smiled happily. This would be a good place to turn. Now he would not have to worry about their human forms developing hypothermia when they turned back.

Sherlock was already removing his clothes. He had neatly folded his heavy woollen coat and placed it on a high shelf, so that no wolf could reach it. Now he was working on the laces of his shoes.

John followed the graceful moves with interest. The long fingers showed no sign of hesitation as they removed the shoes and started on the buttons of Sherlock's shirt.

The younger man caught John staring. The wolf was already present in his eyes. He sent John a rather cheeky smile and undid the last buttons more slowly.

As more and more of the ivory skin showed itself, John's wolf started entering his mind. It scratched at him, sending his human side running. The wolf wanted to claim the omega. Though the bite was a good start, it thought as it stared at the bandage, it was not enough.

Hastily, John started taking off his own clothes. His hands were less sure, almost ripping the buttons of his shirt and forcefully throwing away his shoes.

Although some nervousness remained, he was now impatient.

The omega seemed to know that. He, very slowly, removed his jacket and then his open shirt, making sure to fold them each carefully. Then, he moved to his trousers and John thought he would lose his mind. His wolf's mind was filled with desire.

John had already gotten rid of his own trousers. They were now crumpled and completely forgotten about. The alpha had no room left, to think about anything but Sherlock.

'Sherlock,' he growled in a low voice, 'Last chance.'

The young man looked at him with flushed cheeks and a provocative gaze.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

 

John could not quite remember how it had happened, but suddenly his arms were around Sherlock's body. His hands were on the slender back, that shivered under his touch.

Their kiss was almost violent. Sherlock's teeth were scraping John's lips, at one point even biting them. The taste of blood was in the alpha's mouth, only sending him deeper into the frenzy.

There was a deep growl in the back of his throat, the sound vibrating through his whole body.

With a heavy thump, they descended to the floor.

John moved closer to the omega. He forced the man under him, pinning him with his arms and knees. There was no way for the omega to get away.

Sherlock shivered, but not from fear. He bared his neck, taking care to show the bandage that covered John's bite mark. This pleased John's wolf tremendously. He placed careful kisses around the wound. The heat of Sherlock's skin made his lips tingle.

A warmth was settling in his loin. It grew every time the omega whimpered and moaned.

John's eyes wandered to Sherlock's pants. The small piece of black fabric seemed offensive. He wanted to see all of Sherlock. With a snarl, he removed the last piece of clothing.

Sherlock gasped. The shock, however, did not last for long.

With a playful growl, he placed his arms around John's hips. His fingers slowly travelled to the front of the alpha's briefs. John's breath hitched as the warm hands of his companion, found his growing erection.

Sherlock tentatively made his way up the length of the alpha's member.

This was his alpha. All of him. He gasped at the thought what the alpha would do to him.

John had moved closer to his omega again. He nudged his face in Sherlock's neck, where his scent was the strongest and placed kisses on all the skin he could reach.

He felt Sherlock hands travelling to his back again, slowly crawling up his spine.

He pressed himself against the omega, grinding their loins together. Sherlock was already fully erect. The omega had opened his legs and tilted his hips.

John moved down Sherlock's body, placing kisses all along the way.

He shivered as he placed his hand around the omega's erection. His wolf growled.

_This was all for him. All because of him._

Sherlock moaned as John moved his hand up and down carefully.

It did not take long for the omega to come. He trembled underneath John as his hips moved involuntarily. John smiled and placed kisses on the hipbones.

'You are beautiful,' John spoke in a raspy voice.

Sherlock blinked. A flustered look appeared on his face.

 

John took a few moments to just stare at the omega underneath him. His arms lay sprawled on the ground, his chest still heaving with bliss. The omega's eyes were dark with want. This, John decided, was one of Sherlock's best looks.

 

Since the omega did not seem able to move, John got up to quickly get rid of his briefs. His wolf was crawling under his skin, making his hairs stand up and sending ripples through his nerves. Sherlock's scent hung heavy in the air.

John looked down with a predatory gaze. This man would be his prey tonight.

Sherlock looked up at him, lips parted and a dark blush on his cheeks.

 _Claim him!_ John's wolf roared in his mind. With the moon this close to rising, the doctor was unable to ignore the command the animal gave him.

He kneeled down again, forcing his knees between Sherlock's legs.

The omega whimpered softly and moved in to his touch.

John growled possessively. He grabbed the omega around the waist and pulled him closer.

Sherlock's body was so hot, he could almost feel his fingers melting into the skin.

He moved in closer, placing kisses on the skinny belly, feeling his way around the scarred back.

Meanwhile, Sherlock keened softly. His lower body ground against John, seeking warmth and relief.

 

It was then, that the first moonlight hit the glass roof of the greenhouse.

John could feel it burning on his back. Beneath him Sherlock trembled.

He embraced the omega and pulled him closer, remembering how much the young man had suffered during his previous turning. Clenching his jaws, he tried to ignore the tearing of his own muscles.

Sherlock's nails dug deep into John's back, as the bones in his body broke and grew into different forms. Instinctively, John bowed down, nudging his nose in the crevasse of the omega's neck.

His own screams and growls were muffled by the warm skin of his companion.

John had never turned this close to another being. Especially not someone he was in love with. He found that the pain was more manageable when he breathed in Sherlock's scent. He held on tight as his own back started to break.

 

Their embrace ended, as their hands turned to paws. They each rolled on their side, away from each other, panting and keening with pain.

Slowly, John got up. He took a few careful steps. His paws were still trembling, but they would hold his weight up. When he was certain of his stability, he shook his head and back, getting rid of the last tremors and shivers. He snorted at the end of the shake and sniffed the air.

Sherlock's scent was all around him. It was so thick, that it was almost visible.

His head quickly snapped to the left, when he heard a small howl.

The omega was still lying on its side, chest heaving. The alpha frowned deeply: his omega was in pain.

That realisation, drowned out all other thoughts.

Cautiously he moved closer to the black wolf. As he moved in to eyeshot, he made himself smaller and wagged his tail in a friendly manner. Two pale blue eyes blinked at him warily.

The alpha got closer, softly nudging the black fur with his nose. A low snarl was his answer.

He took a few steps back, giving the omega some space to find his bearings.

After a few moments, the omega got up. At first he seemed uncertain of his movements. It was very much the same as last time, the alpha noted. The omega had not been out for quite a while and needed to get used to its own body again.

When the omega seemed confident enough, the alpha got closer again.

This time, he was welcomed with a friendly nudge. He yapped happily and put his nose deep into the omega's fur. The scent was comforting and filled him up completely.

The black wolf moved closer to him, nudging his nose in the alpha's neck, almost pushing against him. John's human memories flooded back to his wolf brain and he knew what had to happen.

 _Claim the omega_. _Make him ours forever._

The black wolf caught on to the thought. He pushed further against the alpha, daring him to push back. John whined and nibbled softly on one of Sherlock's black ears. Then he pushed back, again nudging his snout deep into the omega's fur.

Although he was the alpha, this was where the omega would be the dominant one. The omega would set the pace. John bowed down, baring his neck to show his submission to the omega.

As an answer, he got a lick on his nose and a nibble on the ears.

The omega moved around him, lifting its tail ever so slightly, releasing all kinds of scents and hormones into the air. Then, with a mischievous growl, he ran away to the other side of the greenhouse.

The alpha whined, begging the omega to come back. When that did not happen, he followed.

He chased the omega down and embraced him with his paws. His reward was the nudge of the snout and then the omega escaped again.

This pursuit lasted until the omega was tired. The black wolf sat down panting, paws trembling.

John orbited around him, burying the omega in wolf kisses and soft nudges. 

He wagged his tail in Sherlock's face, showing his affection and desire.

The omega lifted its hind legs and gave the alpha access to the scent glands underneath its tail.

One sniff was enough to know the omega was ready for mating.

 

Carefully, John mounted the omega.

There was some resistance at first, but then he entered.

The omega whined, but moved into the alpha's body.

More hormones were released. The air was so heavy with them, it was enough to make them both high. The alpha started moving, a knot already growing, binding the wolves together.

Once they both released and the knot had shrunken enough to free them, the wolves fell down to the ground. The omega was panting and shivering, exhausted by the activity.

The alpha whined and moved closer. He groomed the omega's fur, kissed his snout and nibbled his ears in an effort to sooth him.

The human was slowly returning to his brain. He wanted Sherlock to feel safe.

He cuddled up his body against the omega, putting is head on his companions back.

Underneath him, Sherlock slowly stopped shivering. His heartbeat slowed down, syncing with that of the alpha. With a heavy sigh, the omega closed its eyes.

The alpha was prepared to stand guard for the rest of the night. He wanted every entity in the world to know, that this was _his_ omega. No one would touch his omega, or harm him and escape with his life. Still high on hormones, it was not difficult for the large wolf to stay awake.

It was not until the moon started setting, that his eyes got heavy.

When at last, he was too tired to stay awake, he nudged his nose deep in to the omega's fur and closed his eyes. The omega's heartbeat, counted him to sleep.

 

John woke up with a shock. In his dreams, the wolf had told him everything that had happened.

The reality of it, hit him the moment he opened his eyes.

Sherlock was snuggled up to him, his dark curls matted and untidy. Traces of pain from the turning were still visible in his face, but he seemed peaceful now. John caressed one of the pale cheeks and blinked. _They had mated_.

He nearly choked at the thought. They had actually done it.

As he sniffed, the hormones were still traceable in the air. A warm sense of bliss, slowly found its way to his stomach. All of a sudden he was so happy, he felt he could cry. With a smile, he placed a kiss on Sherlock's brow.

That movement, woke the younger man up. He frowned, blinking a few times before he fully opened his eyes. When he met John's gaze, a smile formed on his lips.

'Morning, beautiful,' John said jokingly.

'Good morning,' Sherlock answered with a croaky voice.

He sniffed and created some space between their bodies.

'How are you feeling?,' John asked, as he stretched his arms and upper body.

Sherlock rolled his neck and shoulders with a look of sheer pleasure on his face. He gasped when he got to stretching his lower body. Small wrinkles of pain spread across his face.

'Could be worse,' Sherlock eventually answered.

His hands were on his backside, inspecting the damage that had been done there.

'Does it hurt?' John asked with a guilty tone in his voice, 'Do you want me to take a look.'

Sherlock shook his head. He moved to a sitting position.

'It will be alright,' he said with a small smile, 'Just a bit sore.'

They both looked embarrassed at the thought of what had happened that night.

John cleared his throat and got up.

'I don't know about you, but I would really like a shower and a hot cup of tea.'

He walked over the Sherlock and helped him up. The young man was still a bit shaky.

 

When they were both fully clothed again, they stepped outside.

The cold hit them both like a brick wall. The garden was covered in a small layer of snow and ice.

Above them, the sky was a piercing blue. The only sound was that of their shoes in the snow.

John smiled as one of Sherlock's hands closed around his smaller one.

They walked to the mansion in silence. There was no need to talk. No words could effectively describe how they were feeling. Besides, John knew Sherlock would not know how to respond to such a conversational topic. He squeezed the younger man's hand and saw him smile.

That was more than enough for him.

 

When they entered the mansion, Mrs. Hudson was boiling water.

She had a very bright smile on her lips and a knowing twinkle in her eye.

'Oh, look at the two of you!,' she exclaimed, 'Reminds me of my honeymoon.'

To John's relief, that was all the landlady said about the situation. She took their coats and handed them both a plate full of bacon and eggs, then she made herself sparse. Disappearing to a different room to clean up or call one of her friends.

'How's the mindreading going,' John remarked jokingly. Sherlock had been staring at him for fifteen minutes, without uttering a word. There was a concentrated frown on his face.

The young man blinked with a startle.

'Mindreading?' he asked, with a nonchalant tone, 'I do not know what you mean.'.

The look on his face, however, told John all he needed to know.

'You know, you could just ask me what I am thinking,' he said with a smile.

Sherlock did not answer immediately.

'What are you thinking.'

John sighed happily. He looked Sherlock in the eyes. There was confusion and concentration in them.

'I am thinking, that I have a wonderful mate. And that I am very happy about that.'

A flustered smile reached Sherlock's face.

'What are you thinking, Sherlock?'

'I- There seems to be a large number of happy, even joyful thoughts in my mind,' he said slowly, 'Which I think is to blame on the post-coital euphoria usually experienced after a first mating.'

The man cleared his throat.

'I am happy, John,' he said a few moments later, to clarify his answer.

John carefully grabbed one of the pale hands and planted a kiss on it.

'Good,' he said, with a bright smile, 'Then we are on the same page.'

There was silence as both men got lost in their own thoughts.

 

The rest of the day John felt like he was walking on clouds. He knew his mind and body were still recovering from the mating and making changes. From now on, he would no longer be a solitary creature. Sherlock would be his first and foremost concern and thought. As John had lived most of his life heavily suppressed with hormonal concoctions, he had no idea how his alpha would react to this new situation.

It was a good thing they lived so remote in the mansion. There was no one to challenge him, or to hurt Sherlock in any way. The thought of someone harming Sherlock, made him physically sick.

Sherlock was going through his own changes. He was always in either eye- or earshot, never dwelling for from the doctor. Every now and then he would touch John, or kiss him, leaving a trace of his scent. Showing to the whole world, that John was his.

Mrs. Hudson tried to keep out of their ways mostly. And when they met her in one of the corridors, she smiled a knowing smile and winked. It made John blush every single time.

That afternoon, whilst snuggled up one of the couches, Sherlock got a call from his brother.

John grimaced when he heard the voice on the other side of the phone. He knew that this could ruin the mood for the rest of the day.

 

'What is it that you want, Mycroft,' Sherlock asked warily.

' _Want_ , dear brother? I am afraid you misunderstood the reason for my calling. The only thing I wish to do, is to congratulate you.'

'Congratulate me on what.'

'Well, that seems clear to me. The full moon has passed, which means that both the dear doctor and you have turned. I wish to congratulate you on forming the bond, brother.'

Sherlock got up from the couch. John could see he was getting angry.

'How could you possibly know that,' he hissed in a low voice.

'Oh, please. Don't hold me for a fool, Sherlock. I anticipated a mating ever since I appointed your doctor. You know that. You even screamed it at me, when we last spoke. Remember?,' there was a short silence on Mycroft's side, 'Now, the rest is simple deduction. As you were quite upset when you called me, I knew that the doctor and you had already- _fallen in love_. Since your human side is _usually_ better at controlling himself, than your wolf side, I knew what would happen during the full moon.'

'So, considering that, I would like to be the first one to congratulate you.'

Sherlock blinked angrily, a snarl escaped his lips.

'I do not hope I called at an unfortunate time,' Mycroft said. John could hear the raising of eyebrows even from his side of the couch.

'Since it is you, Mycroft, the timing of the call is always unfortunate,' riposted Sherlock with a growl.

'Now, now, no need to get insulting. I have some information that you might find interesting. You'll see this phone call is more about your wants, than it is about mine.'

Sherlock suddenly stood up straighter. He raised his eyebrows and John could see an almost excited look in his pale eyes.

'What kind of information.'

'The only kind you care about, Sherlock. Murder.'

'There are murders all the time, Mycroft, why should I care about this particular one.'

'And here I thought you would let no chance pass, to prove your skills to the unwilling public,' Mycroft mocked his brother with sugar coated voice, 'These murders are different. The Scotland Yard has been unable to solve them thus far.'

'That is no news,' remarked the younger Holmes with a scoff.

'It is not,' agreed Mycroft, 'I will mail the information to you. If you do decide to take the case, I will send someone to collect you and take you back to London.'

Sherlock blinked in surprise.

'To London?' he asked slowly.

'Yes, to London. It was time you came back, brother, high time.'

After that, the conversation ended.

John stared at the omega with an asking look in his eyes.

'Are we going back to London?' he asked.

Sherlock was still staring at his phone, probably scrolling through the email his brother had sent him.

It was only after a few moments, that he realized John had asked him something.

John repeated the question and waited.

'Yes, we shall go to London,' answered Sherlock, an excited gaze in his eyes.

He looked down at his dressing gown and bare feet. Then up at John in his pyjamas.

'We must pack,' he said, 'I do not think we will return to this place.'

John frowned. Then he sighed and slowly got up.

'Hurry, John!,' Sherlock exclaimed. The young man was already through the door.

'Yes, yes,' mumbled John as he followed at a slower pace.

Further down the corridor he could hear Sherlock calling to him impatiently.

 

'The game is on, John! The game is on!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pheeeewwww!
> 
> This took me so terribly long to write!  
> I think I wrote and rewrote it at least seven times....  
> I needed it to be the perfect ending (which is in itself an entirely impossible endeavour)
> 
> Anyhow, I really hope you guys liked this last one!  
> I am now absolutely certain I want to make this into a series!  
> However I have no idea when I'll start writing the next one....  
> Right now, I'm working on another fic that should take quite a while to finish. So maybe after that.
> 
> I would like to thank everyone who read this from the first moment, to the ones who just discovered it!  
> This was my first ever published fic and without all the support, I would've probably given up.  
> So thank you readers, you are totally awesome :3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story on here, so I have literally no idea what I'm doing!  
> I also have no idea when next chapters will appear.
> 
> English is not my first language and sometimes I feel like my grammar goes full derp.  
> Feel free to correct me, if you see anything is off about it :)


End file.
